


Stop The World

by bigblueboxat221b



Category: Come From Away - Sankoff & Hein
Genre: Alternate Universe - Groundhog Day (1993) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Conversations, Broadway, Diane POV, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Holding Hands, In Gander, Musicals, falling asleep together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-21 04:08:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19995607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigblueboxat221b/pseuds/bigblueboxat221b
Summary: Nick and Diane take one more walk, up to the Dover Fault lookout before their flight takes them from Newfoundland. There's a moment...but Diane turns away. When she wakes up the next day, it's Saturday again, and only Nick is in it with her.





	1. Day 1: Saturday 15th September, 2001

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, readers, these notes have two parts.
> 
> 1\. Back story: Come From Away, A Musical  
> On September 11, 2001, when US airspace was closed due to the events in America, 38 planes were diverted to a tiny town with a huge airport in Newfoundland, Canada. Seven thousand people found themselves stranded for an unknown amount of time, doubling the population of the town. Amongst them were Diane, from Texas, and Nick, from England, off the same flight. They met, fell in love, and were married less than a year later.  
> Come From Away tells the story of many of the passengers and townspeople, including a version of the Nick and Diane story. I have incorporated some lines from the musical; hopefully the writers will forgive my homage.
> 
> 2.Disclaimer: This is not RPF  
> While Nick and Diane in the musical are based on real people, this story is set strictly in the fictional representation of them in the musical, ‘Come From Away’. I haven’t done any research into their personal lives, and anything further than what is canon in the musical is completely made up, with the exception of some geographical details. This is not intended to represent the real life couple in any way, their thoughts, attitudes or actions. It’s just my brain saying, ‘what if?’, as it does to every story that resonates with me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Come From Away, Nick and Diane sing 'Stop The World' which inspired this story. Here's a link if you'd like to listen.  
> [Sung by Sharon Wheatley and Lee MacDougall](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gczyDoBIOrc) (they originated these roles up to and including Broadway)

Looking over the Dover Fault, Diane felt the cold metal against her fingers as she gripped the rail. Today was…Saturday? The days were beginning to run together, and labels like ‘Saturday’ had no real meaning except to mark the passing of time. It already felt like they’d been here forever. The days started the same – waking up without remembering, until something reminded her where she was, and why. Waiting in lines – for the bathrooms, to be fed, to board the buses taking people out to do various things. The sameness was almost infuriating, but for Diane there was a bright point, something that made the uncertainty easier and easier to deal with.

_Nick._

It was ending, she could feel it; the rumbles about the US airspace opening again were more serious this time, and when it did, there would be no more reason for them to stay. Why would they – why would anybody – when they could go back to their homes, back to their lives?

Why, indeed.

“Diane?”

Nick’s voice came from beside her, and Diane steeled herself to look at him and smile, bracing against the crack in her heart. This was her ‘why’.

_Tell him. Stop being scared and just tell him now._

“Can you believe the continents crashed together right here?” she said, pointing to the information board. “And then they separated again.”

“Wow,” Nick murmured, his eyes skimming the words. “A fitting place for the world to land, then.”

“Yes,” Diane replied. She turned to look again, out over the water, and the desire to say something was so strong she pulsed with it. But what? They would both board the same plane to Dallas from here, but then he would fly onwards to London.

And she’d be alone.

Funny, it hadn’t bothered her too much before Gander. Divorced for a long time, with a few relationships in between, but largely it was her and her work, her small apartment, her son. A quiet life, unremarkable perhaps. Now, the idea of returning to that solitude filled her with an unbearable sadness instead. It certainly wasn’t all the strangers she’d been coexisting with for the last week.

It was Nick.

They’d bonded initially over their circumstances, but more than that she really liked him. He was kind and funny in a kind of stuck up British way, and his manners were impeccable. And seeing a familiar face in amongst so much uncertainty had become increasingly important. One of the flight crew she’d spoken with that morning had noticed, telling her he was, ‘A bit of a catch, Diane!’, as though they were already considered a couple. It was only now, facing their inevitable separation, she could admit to herself it was his face of which she had become so fond. A lot of the people around them were almost familiar now, though she hadn’t spoken to them, in the way people are when you live in such close quarters.

She didn’t think her heart would break over saying goodbye to them. Only to Nick.

Now, standing alone with Nick at this glorious lookout, their impending departure looming before her, Diane made a wish. It was a child’s wish, with the fervour and intensity of a small child wanting a pony.

_Stop the world. I don’t want to go back. Please…_

Nick was quiet, standing beside her. She wanted to know what he was thinking about, but daren’t ask. Their walk up here had been subdued, their easy conversation of the last few days petering off with the climb up the stairs, and an awkwardness had crept between them. Diane had no idea if it was her, or both of them, but she caught her gaze lingering over the shape of Nick’s fingers on the railing, the way he tilted his head to check the settings on his camera. Little details she’d miss the most.

“Shall we return?” Nick asked in his quiet, proper accent. “The captain did ask us to stay close to the shelter.”

“Yes, of course,” Diane replied. She smiled up at him, and their eyes met.

That moment could have been something. Everything retreated for a breath, the universe condensing to the two of them standing there on the edge of the world together. Diane almost moved, her muscles contracting before she stilled herself. A long beat of stillness, and Nick nodded and glanced back at the fault.

“Oh! I’ll just take a picture,” he said, stepping back.

She found herself watching him until she realised she was right in the middle of his shot. “Oh! I should move! You’re missing all the scenery!”

“No, stay where you are.”

“Really?”

“Really. It’s perfect.”

Heart pounding, Diane stood still, trying for a smile as Nick took a photo.

“Thank you,” he said.

Another silent moment, this one seeming to stretch out as they stood opposite each other, the distance a chasm.

“Shall we?” Nick said.

She nodded, but words wouldn’t come. They made their way back to the shelter in silence, and this time Diane knew it wasn’t only her eyes that lingered. She could feel Nick watching her, and wondered if it was compassion or something more. He’d commented on her chatter at one point earlier in the week, admiring her ability to talk easily to people she didn’t know well. That had evaporated, replaced with her anxiety about the future. Their future, if she was being honest, but Nick might well think it was the flight, or seeing her son, or a dozen other things. Would he even consider that she might…

No. Well, unlikely. Not unless he was feeling the same, and if there was one thing an Englishman was good at it was keeping his emotions in check. Diane had no idea how he felt. She couldn’t take the risk of spoiling it if she was wrong, and besides, what would she say? They lived thousands of miles apart, for God’s sake.

“Any news?” Diane spoke to a man she recognised from their flight.

“Hurricane’s on the way,” the man said, his smile tight. “US airspace is open, though, so they’ve started boarding some flights. Shouldn’t be more than a few hours now.”

“Okay,” she said. The news made her heart sink, but she managed a smile for Nick. “Good news.”

“Yes,” he said, and she couldn’t tell if there was disappointment in his voice or not. “Better collect our things.”

It was an easy enough process, and soon Diane found herself sitting on her cot. Nick sat beside her, and they watched the room fill as people returned and stayed, waiting for confirmation their flight was actually leaving. The chatter was somewhere between excited and nervous, and it served to heighten Diane’s nerves even further. She was excruciatingly aware of Nick beside her. He was sitting far enough away not to be touching her, of course, but it was still comforting and reassuring to have him there.

She didn’t want to think about what it would be like when he was gone.

“American Airlines flight 32 to Dallas!” A voice was shouting, moving through the room. “Assemble in the foyer please! Take everything, you’re heading back to your plane!”

The relief and anxiety peaked together; some people started crying and others were cheering. Emotions were running high, but Diane has the lid shut firmly on her own, hoping to get through without breaking down. She didn’t know how she felt, it was all mixed together. Going home, seeing her son, saying goodbye to Nick, finding out what was happening in the rest of the world – it was all fraught and spilling through her with abandon.

“Do you have everything?” Nick asked.

“All set,” Diane replied, picking up her carry-on bag.

They followed the crowd out to the foyer, where passports were being checked against the manifest. People kept ducking out of line, accepting bottles of water or food, toothbrushes or other essential items as locals walked up and down, checking that everyone had what they needed. Hugs and tears were present in equal measures, and it all combined to set Diane on the very edge.

Once they were processed, a flight attendant showed them to the right bus and they settled themselves together, the small school bus bench seats pressing them together from knee to shoulder. Nick was warm, and Diane had to stop herself leaning against his shoulder. A thought occurred to her, and she turned to him.

“Do you think we’ll have to sit in the same seats?” she asked. “I mean…” she trailed off. She and Nick had been seated twenty or more rows apart on the original flight, and the thought of being separated earlier than necessary was distressing.

The woman behind overheard her, and leaned over the seat. “I asked the captain and she said we could sit wherever we want. Flight wasn’t full, and she reckons if we can’t break the rules today, when can we?”

“Thank you,” Diane replied to her, flashing a smile to Nick. Just a quick one, before they could lock eyes and she couldn’t hide.

“Good news,” Nick said quietly, and Diane recognised her own words from earlier.

For some reason, that small mark of comfort and familiarity was her undoing. She couldn’t hold it in anymore; tears streamed down her face, hot and silent, and she couldn’t have wiped them away if she wanted too, they fell so fast. She turned away from Nick, pretending to look out the window, desperate for him not to show her the kindness he inevitably would.

Of course she couldn’t fool him. Carefully, he eased his arm around her shoulders, and the ghost of a kiss fluttered against her temple. Diane had to steel herself not to turn and kiss him properly. She could feel her back muscles tighten, stopping her melting into him as she wanted. Such a simple action, and it was almost her undoing. How would he know the impact it was having on her? He was comforting her, of course, in his typically understated way.

Don’t spoil it, she told herself again, finding the tissues from her pocket and dabbing at her cheeks.

More time sitting in silence – over an hour in the bus, waiting and driving and waiting for yet another moose – and they found seats together in the plane, closer to the back than the front. Nick didn’t mention her tears, and neither did she. As preparations for the plane to take off continued, the atmosphere grew more tense, conversation around them petering out until the wheels left the ground; the applause was spontaneous and chatter sprung up almost immediately as people accepted that they really were heading home now. It really was over.

Seven hours and fifty minutes flight time, according to the pilot. Seven hours and fifty minutes until they arrived in Dallas, and he left her.

Their little corner of the plane was silent, surrounded by noise, and it was agonising. Diane had no idea what to say or do. The tears that had stopped between the bus and the plane came again, and with them a wave of fatigue. The stress and unfamiliar conditions meant nobody had slept well, and as the anxiety about leaving – and all it entailed – crept closer, her heightened emotions drained her energy until she sat now. Tears streaming again, and her face was hot, eyes burning again. She wanted to turn to Nick, to seek comfort in him, but she fought the urge.

_Don’t. Spoil. It._

The flight attendant offered drinks, but she declined with a shake of her head, and Nick noticed, of course.

“Diane?” he asked, tentative. “I’m sure David will be at the airport.”

_He thinks I’m worried about seeing him._

“Yes,” she managed.

Another beat, and Nick’s arm again settled around her shoulders. This time, her resolve cracked a little, and she found herself leaning a little against him, his body warm and solid. It was more comforting than she’d expected, and Diane shut her eyes, drinking it in. She didn’t want to forget this moment. This last, bittersweet moment before they said goodbye.

Despite herself, Diane fell asleep.

Despite himself, so did Nick.


	2. Day 2: Saturday 15th September, 2001

With a jerk, Diane woke to a familiar sound. One of the children in their shelter was particularly shrill, and her father made every effort to dress her and take her out as soon as they woke but without fail, reality flooded in by that time and Diane found she couldn’t sleep again. She lay back, staring at the mosaic of cards and posters on the far wall. The date was displayed there, and several clocks showing times around the world.

Saturday, she thought. Already.

_Hang on…_

Frowning, she struggled up, looking at her watch. Just before six thirty, as usual. That child was like clockwork. But she shouldn’t be here. And wasn’t yesterday Saturday? Diane looked around at the other people, some waking, some miraculously sleeping through the shrill call of, ‘pancakes, Daddy!’ in an excited Scottish accent. Nobody looked any more disoriented than usual, which was strange. As she watched, the Scottish child stumbled, her father bending to pick her up as she wailed.

The woman beside her grunted and rolled over.

A man a few cots along swore, and his neighbour admonished him with a ‘shhh!’

A strange sensation passed through Diane, as though she’d seen that exact moment before. It was so familiar…

Maybe it was a dream? Maybe she had dreamed their last day here. A morning like any other, a walk up to the Dover Fault lookout, the increasing awkwardness with Nick, a teary bus ride before boarding the plane and falling asleep against his shoulder. It certainly sounded like a dream, she told herself. Besides, every day started the same here. It was easy to get stuck in a Groundhog Day feeling. It was probably nothing.

“Good morning,” Nick’s voice sounded from beside her.

“G’morning,” she replied. A glance told her he was only half listening, his attention on the rest of the room. He looked puzzled too, Diane thought. “I had the strangest dream,” she told him before she could stop herself. “About…leaving.” It sounded silly when she put it like that.

“It won’t be long now,” Nick reassured her. “Six days, they’ll have to get us out of here soon.”

“Yes,” she replied. Something was still a little off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “I’ll be back in a moment, should we go to breakfast?”

“Sounds good,” Nick said. “I’m starving.”

“I hope they have the eggs like yesterday,” Diane told him as they joined the line of people waiting to be fed. “Or was it the day before?”

“There are always eggs,” Nick reminded her. “And sandwiches.” The sandwiches had become a running joke, platters being available at all hours of the day and night. Diane had joked about finding a sandwich at three AM, and one restless night they had actually found a table bearing several types, waiting for anyone to help themselves. They’d giggled like school children sneaking a midnight snack. Diane remembered the warmth of Nick’s eyes, how they sparkled as he told stories of his time at boarding school outside of London.

“So today must be…Sunday?” Diane asked tentatively.

“Saturday,” Nick corrected her as they moved through the line.

“Okay,” Diane said slowly, the strange feeling coming back. “Feels like I’ve already had a Saturday.” She kept her tone light.

“I know what you mean,” Nick said. He sipped at his tea, then said, “I think we might actually get clearance to fly out tonight. It sounds like the crew are fairly hopeful.”

“Well, I can’t sit in here all day,” Diane told him. “I’ll see what I can find out, but I want to go for another walk today. Especially if it’s our last day.”

“Would you mind if I joined you?” Nick asked, smiling. He always asked, and she always accepted.

Diane rolled her eyes, recognising the gentle tease for what it was. “I’d mind if you didn’t,” she replied, then frowned. This whole exchange felt familiar. Why did she feel like they’d already had this conversation? That was three times already today.

“I might find someone now,” she said, abandoning the rest of her breakfast. “Meet you back at the cots?”

“Of course,” Nick replied. He looked a little surprised, but Diane didn’t stop to analyse.

Seeing a flight attendant she recognised, she said, “Hi, Claire, any news?”

“Hurricane’s coming in, but we’re hoping we’ll get clearance to take off late this afternoon,” Claire replied. Diane blinked. Surely she’d heard that before? A shiver ran up her back at the familiar phrasing. “Stay close to the shelters, and let someone know if you do go anywhere so we can come get you if we need to.”

“Really? That’s great,” Diane said, the lie falling easily. It was like watching a movie you’d already seen, almost anticipating the conversation. “Nick and I want to go for another walk.”

“Oh, you should go up to the Dover Fault lookout,” Claire said. “I went up there earlier this week, it’s beautiful.”

“Oh yes, I was there yesterday,” Diane said without thinking.

“I thought you were with the group out at the aviation museum yesterday?” Claire said. “I’m sure I saw Nick, and you two are pretty indivisible, aren’t you?” Her eyes sparkled. “He’s a bit of a catch, I’d say, Diane.”

“Yes,” she agreed, alarm rising at the flight attendant’s words. If she’d been out at the museum yesterday, then what was her dream about the Dover Fault lookout? This morning was disturbingly similar to the dream. And her dream wasn’t the vague recollection she usually associated with such things. It felt real.

Saying goodbye, Diane walked on autopilot back to meet Nick, her mind whirring.

“Apparently the Dover Fault lookout is worth visiting,” she told him. Whatever was happening, she wanted to experience the lookout with Nick in real life before they had to leave this beautiful place.

He looked startled, peering at her for a long moment. “Okay,” he agreed finally.

A slow walk through town, stopping at Tim Horton’s for coffee; the sense of déjà vu eased and Diane relaxed. The atmosphere between them wasn’t as awkward as in her dream but as they neared the lookout a kind of tension grew.  
“Oh!” Diane exclaimed as they mounted the last step and turned to look. It was exactly the same as in her dream – every step up here, and now, looking out – identical, down to the strangely coloured rock and the fog swirling just so across the water.

This was beyond a coincidence now. She had never even heard of this place, and now she’d dreamed it? And the conversations she’d anticipated, her certainty about already living these events. Something was not normal with this day.

Walking over to the information board felt like approaching something particularly unpleasant, and the dread in her stomach roiled and grew as she read the words.

_Millions of years ago, as portions of the earth's crust shifted, continents collided in ancient Newfoundland. The Dover Fault is a regional geological structure…_

Exactly the same. Exactly.

“Nick,” she said, feeling his presence by her side – _Like yesterday, or was it my dream_? –, “I have a very odd feeling I’ve been here before.”

“You do?” Nick said, and the relief in his voice made her look over at him.

“Yes,” she said. “But I’d never even heard of it until this morning. At least…” she trailed off.

“What?” Nick said, and there was urgency there.

“Today feels like yesterday,” she said carefully. “And not like all the other days. It feels exactly the same. People are saying the same things, doing the same things…and Claire was sure we were at the museum yesterday. So today must be a new day…except it’s not.”

“I am so glad you said something,” Nick said, his face showing relief in every line. “I remember a yesterday that we came up here, then the bus took us back to the plane and we took off.” He glanced at her. “You fell asleep on my shoulder,” he said. “And I think I fell asleep, too.”

“Yes,” she whispered. How could he have known that? “But today is Saturday, is that right?”

“Well, I believe so,” he said. “The museum was definitely Friday, which would make this Saturday.”

“But yesterday was Saturday,” Diane said, frowning.

“Yes, I think so,” Nick agreed.

There was a pause. “This is very weird,” Diane told him.

“Yes,” he said.

“So we’ve both had a Saturday,” Diane said slowly, “and now we’re having…another one?”

“It appears so,” Nick replied.

They looked out over the Fault for a few minutes. It was strange, remembering how desperately she’d wished not to have to leave yesterday, and now that she was still here, it wasn’t sitting right at all. She felt unsettled, more so than at any other point during this whole time.

_At least Nick’s in it with you, whatever it is._

“I think I’d like to go back to the shelter,” Diane told him finally.

“Of course,” Nick replied. “Although…I just want to take a photo, if you don’t mind.”

She found herself watching him until she realised she was right in the middle of his shot. “Oh! I should move! You’re missing all the scenery!”

“No, stay where you are.”

“Really?”

“Really. It’s perfect.”

Shocked at the exchange, Diane looked at him. “Do you remember…”

“We said that yesterday,” Nick finished her words.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

“Did you take your photo?” Diane asked finally.

Nick raised his camera, framing her and clicking a shot. “Oh!” he said, looking down. “I took photos yesterday!”

Diane strode over to him, and they peered at the tiny display screen.

There was the photo he had just taken.

 _15.09.01, 11.51am_ , it said on the timestamp.

And before it – yesterday’s photo. Diane was further away, but otherwise it was almost identical.

_15.09.01, 3.14pm._

“But that’s…it’s not even midday yet!” Diane gasped, looking at the photo.

“And that’s definitely…” Nick trailed off, looking at her.

“Me,” she finished for him.

The look they shared this time was different. Disbelieving, and Diane hoped the anxiety she could see in Nick’s eyes wasn’t simply her own reflected.

“We are having another Saturday,” Diane whispered.

“What should we do?” Nick asked.

Diane had no idea if it was a rhetorical question or not. “I don’t know,” she said. “The same? I didn’t hear anyone else talking about things being off this morning. Is it just us?”

“I have no idea,” Nick replied.

“I think we should do the same as yesterday,” Diane said. “I mean…you know what I mean. Wait at the shelter, then the bus will pick us up and we’ll fly back to Dallas. And tomorrow will be Sunday.”

“Are you sure?” Nick asked.

“No,” Diane said with a strained laugh. “I am not sure at all, but I don’t have any other ideas.”

“Okay,” Nick said.

They turned to head back to the shelter. It was hours earlier than the previous day, but Diane felt funny about going to do something else. This was familiar at least, and they could be sure they wouldn’t miss the flight. If things progressed the same as yesterday, their flight would definitely leave this evening.

+++

Diane swallowed hard. Nick had brought sandwiches and coffee, smiling as he passed her the salad sandwiches she’d liked best. The coffee was perfect, and he didn’t have to ask how she took it. The tiny detail tugged at her heart.

_I’ll never look at white bread and salad the same again._

They’d made small talk as they ate, neither mentioning anything about this strange situation they’d found themselves in until they returned to the cots to wait. As if the whole ‘diverted to Canada’ idea wasn’t unusual enough, Diane thought to herself.

“American Airlines flight 32 to Dallas!” A voice was shouting, moving through the room. “Assemble in the foyer please! Take everything, you’re heading back to your plane!”

And now the same flight attendant called the same words. Nick and Diane had spent hours talking, the conversation low but stilted. To outsiders it probably looked like they were whispering sweet nothings, Diane had thought at one point, except for their strained expressions. It was unlikely anyone was listening in the noisy hall, but as they swapped recollections from the previous day, alert to repeated events, Diane didn’t want anyone to overhear them.

It was slightly nuts that they were even having the conversation in the first place.

The sound in the hall swelled the same as it had yesterday, and Diane glanced nervously at Nick. She remembered how she’d felt yesterday at this time. Still nervous, but in a different way today.

“Do you have everything?” Nick asked. He winced. “I said that yesterday, didn’t I?”

“I believe I replied, ‘I’m all set,’” Diane said.

The waiting was the same; making it to the bus was a relief. They sat in the same seats, and Diane remembered how they’d been pressed together in the small space yesterday. The contact today was comforting again. It reminded her that they were both in this, whatever it was. They were together, and that made it easier.

As they sat, Diane remembered turning to ask Nick if they’d be able to sit together. She caught his eye and he smiled.

“Good news,” he whispered, and she knew he remembered. It had made her cry yesterday, too.

To her surprise, the memory made her tear up again. His words had the same effect yesterday but for a different reason, and now here she was, crying on the bus. It didn’t make it any easier to hold them back, and the déjà vu was strong, staring out into the blackness, hot tears streaming down her face.

Nick’s arm was less tentative this time, and she relaxed a little, wondering if he would kiss her temple again.

He did, more firmly this time, and his slight confidence made her heart flutter. They were growing more comfortable with each other, but it was too little too late, she thought sadly.

“Do you think it’s the same moose?” Nick murmured as their bus came to an abrupt stop.

“Yes,” Diane replied. It would not surprise her in the least. So many other things were the same, why would this be different?

They boarded again, making their way to the same seats by silent agreement. The rhythm of their wait was odd in its familiarity, and when the wheels left the ground Diane knew she was already braced for the cheers.

“Seven hours and fifty minutes,” Diane murmured along with the pilot.

“You remembered,” Nick commented.

“It was an important number,” Diane told him.

“Counting down to land at home?” Nick asked.

“Something like that,” Diane replied. She knew she was deliberately misleading him; yesterday he’d assumed she was anxious about seeing David.

“I’m sure David will be at the airport,” Nick said, right on cue.

“But will we?” she replied.

He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it and shrugged helplessly.

Another beat, and his arm around her shoulders was starting to feel familiar. Again, she leaned into him, enjoying the comfort as she had last night.

Again, she fell asleep.

Again, so did he.


	3. Day 3: Saturday 15th September, 2001

The same child was wailing. It startled Diane out of sleep, but as soon as her eyes opened and she registered her surroundings, she slumped back against her pillow.

Still in Canada, then.

Her watch read the time she expected, and as she turned toward Nick’s cot, she heard the Scottish child stumble, her father trying to calm her as they left.

“Hi,” Nick said, his eyes meeting hers.

Behind her, the cot protested as Diane’s neighbour rolled over, profanity and ‘shhh!’ following soon after.

“Hi,” Diane replied, trying to smile at him.

“Still here, then,” Nick said.

“Yeah.”

“At least it’s happening to both of us,” Nick pointed out. He hastened to add, “I mean, at least you don’t have to do it on your own.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Diane agreed. “But…what’s going on, Nick?” She spied the mosaic, the familiar ‘Saturday, September 15th’ pinned on the board. The same as yesterday, and the day before…

“I have no idea,” he said honestly. She could see him thinking hard, his brow furrowed with the effort. “I’ve never even heard of it happening to one person, let alone two.”

“Well, I’m hardly going to be telling people about it,” Diane said. “I mean, if we get out of here.”

“Agreed,” Nick replied. “Well, what should we do?”

Diane thought about it. “Well…this feels like a cheesy movie. And if it was a cheesy movie, there’d be some reason we were stuck in this day.”

“Okay,” Nick agreed. “Is there something we’re supposed to do?”

“Maybe,” Diane said. “Maybe we did it wrong the first day.”

“This is crazy,” Nick said. “This conversation, I mean.”

“Well, yeah,” Diane replied. “But so’s this.” She waved one hand around. “Saturday. Again.”

“So how do we know what we were meant to do?” Nick said. “Would you mind if we get breakfast while we keep talking? I’m starving.”

“Sure,” Diane replied, and they started moving towards the cafeteria.

“Well, what did we do the first day?” she asked.

Nick frowned as they settled down at a table away from the few other people here at this early hour. “In the morning we walked around town,” he said. “Then you spoke to Claire and she told you we might leave so we did the last walk.”

“Up to Dover Fault lookout,” Diane concluded.

“Yes,” Nick said.

Diane thought about it as she started on her eggs. “Well, we did Dover Fault yesterday, and we’re still here,” she pointed out. “Besides, it’s just the two of us up there. If there’s something we’re meant to do, it probably has something to do with other people, right?”

The logic made sense, as long as she didn’t examine it too closely. From the look Nick shot her way, he could see the holes too, and she wondered for a moment if he was going to call her out on it. There certainly had been plenty of chance for things to take a different direction yesterday, and it could absolutely have started at the Dover Fault.

But Diane wasn’t prepared to face that particular possibility quite yet. Besides, how ridiculous that all this would happen just because neither of them had been the first to say…

“So you think we should stay here today?” Nick asked.

“Maybe,” Diane replied. “I have no idea, really.” She felt panic rising a little, and from Nick’s expression he could see it.

“Let’s just stick together,” Nick said, smiling at her. “Surely that’s meant to happen, if we’re both in this.”

The logic of that statement far outstripped her own, and Diane clung to it. “Okay,” she said, surprised that her voice came out as a whisper.

They finished eating in silence, and once they’d each completed their ablutions, Diane and Nick stood opposite each other beside their cots.

“Well,” Nick said, “Let’s see what’s going on around here.”

He held out his hand and Diane took it without thinking. It wasn’t until they’d walked halfway to the door that she realised they’d never held hands before. Whether Nick knew it or not, she wasn’t letting go. Holding onto him felt like holding onto her sanity. And it reminded her she wasn’t alone. Not yet.

The morning was like some kind of bizarre treasure hunt, when you don’t know what you’re looking for. They walked through the entire shelter, then down to the main street of the small town. Finally, they ended up in Tim Horton’s. The barista wouldn’t let them pay, so Diane put her money in the tip jar instead.

They took a seat by the window, each cradling their drink with both hands.

“Well?” Nick asked. “Did you see anything that might be important?”

“Nope,” Diane said. She frowned, frustration twisting her stomach. If they couldn’t figure out what they were meant to do, how could they do it? Assuming that was the reason for this, of course.

“Well, we could go to the Baptist Church this afternoon,” Nick suggested. “There’re a lot of plane people over there.”

“Okay,” Diane agreed. She had to do something, this was maddening. It didn’t help that Nick was being patient and kind through this whole process. They’d held hands as they walked through the shelter, talking to a few people, consulting in low tones when they saw something that could be…something. It was all so surreal, and after she’d excused herself to the bathroom, Diane was relieved that he took her hand again without comment. It just helped her feel slightly less…out of her mind.

As they stepped out onto the street, someone called her name.

Diane turned to see Claire, the flight attendant waving as she jogged across the street. “Hi,” she said.

“I’m glad I found you both!” Claire said, grinning at them.

“Any news?” Diane asked, then felt a shadow of a frown across her face. She’d asked that same question yesterday – well, on the second Saturday.

“Hurricane’s coming in, but we’re hoping we’ll get clearance to take off late this afternoon,” Claire replied. A shiver ran up Diane’s back at the familiar phrasing. _Again, with the words and the shiver._ “Stay close to the shelters, and let someone know if you do go anywhere so we can come get you if we need to.”

Diane shivered again, unable to stop it. Nick didn’t speak, but he reached out to take her hand, squeezing a little as his fingers folded around hers.

“Really?” Diane said, almost biting back the words, but they pushed through. “That’s great. Nick and I thought we might go for another walk.”

“On, you should go up to the Dover Fault lookout,” Claire said. “I went up there earlier this week, it’s beautiful.”

Diane clutched at Nick’s fingers, forcing a smile. “Sounds good,” she said.

Claire reminded them to stay fairly close before pushing the door open and disappearing into Tim Horton’s.

“Are you alright?” Nick asked.

“Familiar conversation,” Diane said. She felt shaky, adrenalin still coursing through her. It was spooky experiencing the same conversation, but worse was how easily the same words fell from her own lips in response, as though it was…fate or something.

“The Dover Fault again,” Nick said. “Do you think we should go?”

“It will be deserted,” Diane pointed out. “Haven’t we been trying to see if there’s something for us to do with other people?”

“Yes,” Nick agreed. “Okay, let’s go over to the Church.”

They crossed the road, Diane still feeling jittery. She knew her jaw was set, the pressure pushing through her teeth where they were clenched. This was all so strange, and when she thought she might have some kind of handle on it, something happened to throw her off again.

She must have been broadcasting her agitation, because Nick squeezed her hand again.

“We could stop for a sandwich, if you want,” Nick suggested. “I believe cod tongue is a popular local delicacy.”

Diane looked up, startled, to see his eyes smiling down at her. He was teasing, she realised. Trying to pull her out of her fear with a silly reference.

_So thoughtful._

“Cod tongue?” she repeated. “No thank you.”

“Can’t be a Newfoundlander if you’re not prepared to eat the local food,” Nick admonished gently.

“I noticed you’ve been eating the toutons,” she pointed out.

“They’re basically pancakes,” Nick protested.

“When you cover them in syrup they are,” Diane agreed. “Hardly the same as cod tongue.” She shuddered. “I’ll stick to the eggs.”

“And sandwiches,” Nick added.

“But not the cod tongue,” Diane replied.

“I’ve heard some people talking about something called ‘scrunchions’,” Nick told her.

“I have never heard of that,” Diane said. She screwed up her nose. “It sounds…weird.”

“Deep fried pork fat,” Nick told her.

“Really?” Diane said, disbelieving.

“Ae you reconsidering your position on cod tongues, Diane?” Nick asked, with a grin.

“No thank you,” Diane repeated, though a smile was spreading across her face. She shuddered. “As I recall it was you that wasn’t prepared to kiss that fish the other night.”

Nick raised his eyebrows and was about to retort when he glanced up and stopped. Diane was a step or so slower, but when she saw what he had, she stopped too.

Involved in their conversation, neither had noticed them walking straight past the Church and out the far end of town. Nick has stopped in front of a sign marking a series of steps up and away from the middle of town.

_Dover Fault lookout. 1 mile._

“Dover Fault lookout,” Diane murmured.

“It keeps coming up, doesn’t it?” Nick replied.

Diane hesitated, hearing the unasked question. She chewed on her lower lip, thinking. They really did have no idea what they were doing. Was this a sign, or did that kind of thinking mark the beginning of her losing her mind?

“Might I suggest,” Nick said, and his words were carefully chosen, “that if we have been put in this situation to do something in particular, it might be wise to do what we’re being told, more or less?”

“That really is annoying,” Diane said, breaking into a smile at his bewildered expression. “The mind reading, it’s a little creepy, Nick.”

“Less mind reading and more…Diane reading,” Nick replied. “You really do wear your heart on your sleeve, you know.”

Diane stopped, her breath catching as she looked at him with wide eyes. Was she really so transparent? If she was, could he read her reluctance to take a risk on them?

“Well, I guess if we’re here already,” Diane said, pointing up the stairs. “Do you remember the way?”

“A million stairs,” Nick groaned.

“Stop complaining,” Diane told him, laughing despite herself. “I’ll race you if you like.”

“I don’t think so,” Nick said, and he sounded so English and disapproving she couldn’t help laughing. It broke some of the tension, to her relief, and the climb wasn’t as difficult as she remembered. They made it to the top, the view still breath-taking for the familiarity.

“It’s so strange to think we’ve never been here,” Diane said. “I mean…”

“I know what you mean,” Nick replied.

She stepped forward, fingers curling around the barrier again, the metal as cold as she remembered. Nick was behind her somewhere, and she wondered if he was experiencing this the same was as she was, seeing moments laid over each other. Similarities popping out at her when things happened for a second or third time.

“Diane?”

Nick’s voice was from beside her – the same side as the first time – and his presence was comforting. The crack in her heart still wrenched, but she was used to it by now. Little moments pulled at it constantly, and the sense of camaraderie between them today made her heart ache for a future where this was real.

“Is this my cue to mention the continents?” Diane asked. “You probably remember.”

“Yes, the analogy is quite apt,” Nick said. He was standing close to her now, one hand resting on the railing near hers. They weren’t touching, but the space between them felt electric. Diane wasn’t sure if she was feeling or remembering the feeling of wanting to say something; the pulse was there, but it was also a memory, and she couldn’t separate the two.

Turning to face the Fault, Diane closed her eyes, the wish coming to her quietly and simply.

_Whatever is happening, don’t separate us, please…_

After a moment, Diane opened her eyes, blinking out at the low hills across the water.

“It’s still foggy,” she said, feeling foolish as soon as the words escaped her.

“Yes,” Nick murmured. A beat, and then, “Oh!”

“What?” Diane said, her heart thumping. Had he thought of something? Had the same idea occurred to him, that if they were being guided here, and it was only the two of them…

“I need to take a photo,” Nick said. He pulled his camera from his pocket.

“I suppose we should do it the same?” Diane asked.

“Probably,” Nick replied.

“You’d better show me the other photos,” Diane said. “So I can make sure it’s right.”

He turned the viewfinder to her, and she stepped close. Their faces were close as they both looked at the previous photos. It was so bizarre to know they were on different days, and yet they were almost identical.

“Okay,” Diane said, stepping back a little. “I think this is it.”

Nick framed the photo, and Diane smiled.

“I think you’re moving closer,” Diane said, when they looked at all three photos. “Yes, I’m definitely further away in the first one.”

“Do you want to take another?” Nick asked.

“No, we should be getting back,” Diane said. She checked her watch – the afternoon was wearing on. “We want to be sure we’re there for the bus.”

“What do you think would happen if we weren’t there?” Nick asked as they started back down the stairs.

“If we missed the bus?” Diane asked. “We’d miss the plane. I don’t understand.”

Nick was quiet for half a dozen steps before he reframed his question. “If we’re going to end up back here,” he said, “it doesn’t matter what we do. We’ll wake up in the shelter tomorrow anyway.”

Diane had stopped before he finished speaking, and he was several steps further down before he realised she wasn’t following him.

“How do you know we’re not going to fly home?” Diane whispered. Nick looked at her, but she spoke again before he had the chance. “No, I have to be there. I have to believe we’re not going to be stuck here again…” She’d thought the idea of being separated was bad, but her panic at the idea of waking her tomorrow overtook her, sudden and fierce. _That I won’t be in this limbo with you, so close but unable to do anything. It’s agony, and at least if I’m at home I can start trying to forget about you._

“I’m sorry,” Nick said, coming back up a few steps until his face was level with hers. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sure today is the last day. We’ll get on that bus, then the plane, and in eight hours-”

“Seven hours and fifty minutes,” Diane interrupted.

“Seven hours and fifty minutes,” Nick corrected himself, “we’ll be landing in Dallas, and David will be there to meet you.”

Diane stared at him. He still thought…

“I’m not worried about David,” she said, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

“You’re not…” Nick started.

Before he could say anything else, Diane kept going. “Come on, we should get back to the shelter.”

“Yes,” Nick said thoughtfully.


	4. Day 4: Saturday 15th September, 2001

This time when something woke Diane, she didn’t move a muscle. Yes, it was a child whining, but there were children on their flight, and it was probably one of those. She’d fallen asleep leaning against Nick again, the comforting weight of his arm over her shoulders still warm in her memory.

“Pancakes, Daddy!”

A grunt. The protestations of a cot as someone rolled over.

A deep voice swearing.

“Shhh!”

Diane rolled over, her own cot rattling as she did.

“Oh no…” the words whispered out past her lips, and she squeezed her eyes tight, shaking her head a little against the pillow.

They were still in Canada.

“No, no, no,” she moaned to herself. This couldn’t be happening. How long could she stay here, feeling herself drawn more and more strongly to Nick as they relieved the same day over and over again?

“Diane?”

The voice was quiet and familiar. And close.

Diane opened her eyes. She’d forgotten that in turning away from the noise she was now facing the next cot. Nick’s cot. He was awake, still lying down. It was oddly intimate, looking at him sideways from a cot only a foot or two away in a room filled with sleeping strangers.

His eyes met hers, and the concern in them was real and only added to her increasingly panicked state.

“I can’t do this again,” she whispered. It was quite possible he didn’t hear her, but he sat up anyway.

“Sit up,” he coaxed, voice gentle. One hand reached out towards her, as courteous as ever, offering without insisting.

Shaking, Diane pushed her blanket back. She swung her legs over the side of the cot and wrapped one arm around herself, reaching blindly for Nick’s hand. It was as she remembered, warm and a little rough, squeezing her fingers.

“May I sit beside you?” Nick asked.

Diane nodded, still fighting with the panic in her head and heart. She felt the cot shift as he sat, much closer than he had on their previous evenings, and his arm around her shoulders again felt as natural as the kiss he dropped on her head.

“At least we’re both here,” he said. “You’re not alone.”

She knew he was trying to help, but knowing there was another full day ahead, of sticking with Nick, not knowing if tomorrow would be yet another Saturday in Newfoundland or Sunday in Dallas, was almost too much.

“Excuse me,” she choked out, standing and race walking out of the hall. Nobody paid her any attention. People in tears was nothing new, and most people were either still asleep or wrapped up in their own companions.

It wasn’t until she was standing in the empty foyer, back pressed against the wall and trying not to fall apart completely that Diane realised Nick had followed her. He stood back, uncertain, and for once his chivalrous behaviour was irritating.

With a sob, she reached for him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his shoulder. After a startled moment she felt his arms cross her back, and for the first time since this situation had started, Diane let herself cry. It wasn’t for David, or the people in New York and Washington, D.C., or even her own stranded state. These tears were for what might be in the future. For what she was too scared to make happen, especially now tomorrow was even less certain than it had been a few days ago.

They were for her future self, lonely in the small apartment she’d always loved but would be empty and quiet after this experience. Too scared to take a chance, to ask the question of this kind, lovely man who lived on the other side of a vast ocean.

Nick just stood, holding her, riding out her sobs until they subsided. When she finally drew a deep (albeit shaky) breath, Diane realised. _This is the first time we’ve hugged._ Finally able to process what was happening, she noted the smell of his shirt (did he usually smell of that laundry detergent?), and how carefully he was cradling her.

“Thank you,” she said finally, when she eased away from him. He allowed her to, of course, and when she looked up at him, an embarrassed flush blooming warm in her cheeks, his smile was warm.

“Of course,” he said. “This is hardly a normal situation.”

“No,” Diane said. “Even without the…” she waved one hand.

“Saturdays?” Nick suggested.

“I’ve never hated a weekend so much in my life,” Diane agreed. She sighed, a release of tension. “I might just take a few minutes, Nick. Maybe I can meet you for breakfast?” She smiled a little, adding, “I bet you’re starving.”

“I am,” he grinned. “I’ll meet you in the cafeteria.”

“Okay. Oh, and...” she waited until he turned back and was looking at her. “Thanks.”

Nick just smiled.

When she finally made it to the cafeteria – washing her face, brushing her hair and applying her makeup made her feel far more human – Nick was waiting, her coffee opposite him.

“I hope it’s not cold,” he apologised before she sat down.

“I’m sure it will be fine,” she assured him. “Perfect drinking temperature,” she lied, forcing the cold coffee down.

Nick looked at her, and after a second they both burst into laughter. “You are a terrible liar,” he told her, standing to replace the drink. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Diane watched him, wondering if he knew how much she was hiding. Wondering if she was actually hiding it at all.

“So, what should we do today?” Nick asked when he returned.

“I have no idea,” Diane asked. “Well, I guess the Fault at some point.”

“This afternoon?” Nick said. “That seems to be how it’s going.”

“Sure,” Diane said. “Maybe we could actually get to the Church today. Who knows if that’s the right thing?”

The look Nick gave her was speculative, and Diane waited a little uneasily for his response. “That sounds good,” he said. Diane could see him thinking, and she asked, “What?”

“I was just wondering,” he said, “if you should try to find Claire this morning. Or if she’ll find us.”

Diane thought about it. “I have spoken to her every Saturday,” she said slowly. “And we bumped into her outside Tim Horton’s yesterday.”

“You said the conversation was familiar,” Nick reminded her.

“It was,” Diane said, almost shuddering.

“It might be one of the things that…happens,” he said.

“Well, if that’s the case, she’ll find us, do you think?” Diane said.

“Probably,” Nick replied. “And you can always look for her when we come back later, if she hasn’t spoken to you before then.”

“Alright,” Diane said. “Shall we head out to the Church, then?”

The morning was uneventful as far as working out what they were meant to be doing, but interesting. They hadn’t had much of a chance to meet the people staying at the Church, and many of them seemed quite pleased to have new people to talk to. Diane fell into conversation with a pair of women who’d visited Paris earlier in the year, but she was a terrible conversationalist. She could feel her eyes drifting towards Nick, talking with someone who grew up in the same area of London as he did.

“So you were in Paris, then,” one of the woman said, poking Diane in the ribs.

“Oh! Sorry, yes,” Diane replied. “I’ve always wanted to go, and David thought my birthday was a good excuse.”

“So you had fun?” the other woman – Diane thought her name was Pauline, but she could have been wrong – asked. It was clear from her expression and the smirk on her friend’s face that she was insinuating a heavily romantic kind of experience.

“What?” Diane said blankly. “No, I was there with David. My son. David is my son.”

“Your what now?” Pauline said. She turned to point at Nick. “He is not your son, honey.”

“No, that’s Nick,” Diane said. “He’s English. We met on the plane.”

“Right,” Pauline said, winking at her friend. “Well, he looks like a bit of a catch, Diana. I wouldn’t let that one go if I was you.”

“No, no, we’re not…we’re just friends,” she said.

Pauline was a little more delicate than her friend, who snorted in disbelief. “Doesn’t look like it to me, honey,” she said. “You’ve spent most of our conversation looking at him, and he’s been watching you more than talking to that guy, too.”

“He has not,” Diane said. She glanced at Nick, only to find him glancing right back at her. A smile broke over his face, and she matched it without thinking. “Has he?” she asked anxiously, looking at the women.

“Yes!” They said immediately and in unison, breaking into laughter.

“Take him somewhere romantic and plant one on him!” Pauline’s friend said just a little too loudly.

“Yes, thank you,” Diane replied, moving away as she felt her cheeks flush.

“Try the Dover Fault lookout,” Pauline said, leaning in to whisper to Diane. “It’s incredible.”

“Thanks,” Diane repeated, not stopping. Trusting that Nick would have heard the laughter – though hopefully not the comment about kissing him – she walked out through the vestibule.

Sure enough he followed a moment later.

“Well, if there was anything here, I think I’ve got it,” she said to him.

“Really?” Nick said brightly.

Before they could continue, a bus pulled up and several couples alighted, thanking the driver and walking into the Church. Nick and Diane moved out of the way, but snippets of their conversation were audible.

“Just beautiful…”

“…so romantic, I can’t believe there was nobody else there!”

“Apparently the continents crashed together there, then when they separated they left a piece behind.”

“What was it called?”

“The Danver Fault, wasn’t it Sarah?”

“Dover Fault, Paul. Dover, like the cliffs!”

Their chatter continued as they moved in.

Diane threw a dramatic arm up. “And that would be confirmation,” she said. “That’s the second time since we got here someone mentioned the Dover Fault.”

“Is that what those women were talking about?” Nick asked.

“Yes,” Diane replied, hoping he wouldn’t ask for too many more details. “She suggested we go up there today.”

“Well,” Nick said. “Nothing like that happened to me, so I suppose…”

“Coffee first,” Diane said firmly. “And something to eat. Not a sandwich,” she jumped in before Nick could speak. He grinned and she swatted his arm. It felt as natural as breathing for her hand to drop into his as they crossed the road, and she was turning her head to look up at him when she heard her name being called.

It was Claire, just stepping out of Tim Horton’s.

“I’m glad I found you both!” Claire said, grinning at them.

“Any news?” Diane asked, the words automatic. She felt Nick squeeze her hand, and knew he could feel her tension. It seemed this was one of the things that happened, the conversation with Claire, but it still set her teeth on edge.

“Hurricane’s coming in, but we’re hoping we’ll get clearance to take off late this afternoon,” Claire replied.

“So we should stay close to the shelters?” Nick jumped in.

“Yes,” Claire replied, looking vaguely surprised. “Let someone know if you do go anywhere…”

“So you can come and get us if you need to,” Nick finished for her.

Diane knew what he was doing. Cheeky thing, she thought, squeezing his hand. He was hijacking the conversation so she wouldn’t have to do it exactly the same again. Even stuck here himself, he was trying to make it easier on her.

_Oh how easy it would be to let myself fall for you…_

“Exactly,” Claire said. There was a pause, before she asked, “Did you have any plans for this afternoon?”

“We’ve been told Dover Fault lookout is worth the stairs,” Diane said, suppressing a grin at Nick’s expression.

“On, you should go,” Claire said. “I went up there earlier this week, it’s beautiful.”

“We will,” Nick said, and they all turned to go.

“Oh, Diane,” Claire said, grabbing her arm.

She clearly wanted a word without Nick present, so Diane said to him, “I’ll be right behind you.”

Claire waited until the door had closed behind him before saying conspiratorially, “I didn’t realise you and Nick were seeing each other.”

“What?” Diane said. “We’re not.”

“Could have fooled me,” Claire replied, arching an eyebrow. “He’s a bit of a catch, Diane. Don’t let that one slip away.”

“He lives in England,” Diane said in disbelief. “And I live in Texas.”

Claire shrugged. “That can change,” she said, and was gone before Diane could reply.

She was still processing the conversation when she walked inside, looking blankly up at Nick for a moment.

“Interesting conversation?” Nick asked.

“Oh,” Diane said, realising Nick would expect her to tell him what had happened. “Let’s sit first.” They ordered coffee and a couple of bear claws, tucking their money in the tip jar again.

“So?” Nick asked.

“I know what you did there,” Diane said, keeping her tone light. She was hoping to distract him enough that he might not ask what Claire wanted. “Changing the conversation with Claire.”

“I could see it made you uncomfortable,” Nick said.

“Having literally the same conversation over and over?” Diane replied, arching one eyebrow. “Not at all.”

“It’s a little spooky,” Nick said. “And I wasn’t even part of it.”

“You were today,” Diane said. She tore off a piece of bear claw. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Nick replied. After a moment, he changed the subject. “Speaking of conversations I was not a part of,” he said, grinning when Diane winced, squeezing her eyes shut. “Come on, what did she want to talk to you about?”

“It’s not relevant,” Diane tried.

“What, not relevant to this?” Nick said. “I’d argue everything is relevant.”

“Why?” Diane said, stalling.

“Okay, without telling me exactly what was said,” Nick said, “was it a repeat of something?”

Diane stared at him, not entirely sure where he was going. “Yes,” she replied cautiously.

He nodded, swallowing his coffee. “Well, I know we’re both in this, this loop,” he said, “but I somehow feel like it’s centred more around you than me.”

“What?” she said blankly. What was he talking about?

“You’ve experienced far more repeated moments and conversations than I have,” Nick said.

“I have not,” Diane shot back.

“Well, we haven’t actually looked at that,” Nick said. He look up, thinking. “All the conversations I’ve had, or things that I’ve felt déjà vu around, have been directly related to you. Conversations with you, or things happening when I’m with you.”

“You’re always with me,” Diane protested.

“Well, have you had repeated things happen without me?” Nick asked.

Diane thought. “There were the people in the shelter this morning,” she started. “But you were there.”

“Anything else?” Nick asked.

Several memories, layered over each other, played in her mind at the same time. There was no way she could get around telling him this.

“The Dover Fault lookout conversation,” she said. “With Claire a few times-”

“-and she always talks to you, not me-” Nick interjected.

“-and the women at the Church suggested it too,” Diane added.

“What else?” Nick asked.

Diane sighed, resigning herself to the humiliation. “I’ve been told several times, at least once a day, that you’re ‘a bit of a catch’,” she told him. “And twice we’ve been mistaken for a couple.”

“You’re not a couple?” The voice broke in from the next table. It was a man staring openly at both Nick and Diane, obviously eavesdropping on their conversation. The woman next to him rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm. “Excuse him, he has no sense of personal space,” she said, dragging him out of the shop.

“Three times,” Diane amended. She met Nick’s eyes and despite herself, they burst into laughter again. “That was what Claire wanted,” she admitted. “Looking for gossip, I think, but she definitely used the phrase, ‘a bit of a catch.’ Today and every other Saturday, I think.”

“Well, then,” Nick said. There were two high spots of colour in his cheeks, which Diane knew from experience only appeared when he was flustered. “As I said, I think this is centred around you, though I’m here too, obviously.”

“Yes,” Diane agreed. “I need to clear my head. To think.”

“Would you like some space?” Nick said. “I could return to the shelter while you walk, if you like.”

Diane looked at him, a rush of affection coursing through her. “And visit the Dover Fault lookout all on my own?” she joked. Her smile faded. “I’m sorry, Nick, this can’t be easy on you either.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “Well, it’s incredibly strange, of course, but it seems there’s nothing I can do about it, so,” he shrugged.

Diane had the impression there was a whole lot he wasn’t saying, but she wasn’t sure how to ask. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer right now.

“Up to the Fault, then?” she asked.

“Where else?” Nick replied.

They walked in companionable silence, hand in hand as was becoming the norm. Diane, more interested in maintaining their connection than getting to the top quickly, climbed the stairs slowly alongside Nick. They had to part several times as people were coming down, but they always took each other’s hands again. When he offered his hand first, Diane was gratified to realise it wasn’t just her reaching out.

“That’s different,” Nick murmured as they stood aside for a large group, chattering in German.

“Yes,” Diane replied. Her mind was whirling, and having Nick close seemed to both ground and confuse her even more. She couldn’t make sense of it, so let go of it as they climbed together.

When they reached the top, she squeezed Nick’s hand briefly before walking to the far side and leaning on the rail. He took the hint, thankfully, moving to the other side.

_He thinks this is more about me. And he’s no fool, he can’t have not seen the same pattern I have._

The Dover Fault lookout.

People mistaking them for a couple.

How upset she was at the end of each day, though he couldn’t know the real reason.

Her slip the previous day that she wasn’t thinking about David.

And if he was right, if this was more about her, then it must be something she had to do differently. A decision that was hers to make, and someone, or something, had determined she was making the wrong one, so she was being given the opportunity to make it, again and again.

“Not all that subtle,” Diane muttered to herself.

Even with all the evidence in front of her – and it was circumstantial at best, but assembled it did hold weight – she was frightened. Things had gotten weird enough that she had to be honest with herself or she’d never survive this. She was frightened of how deeply she felt for Nick, of what might happen if he didn’t feel the same. Of what might happen if he did feel the same, but they couldn’t make it work long distance. She couldn’t ask him to move across the world for her, and leaving Texas – and David – was out of the question.

Staring over the landscape, Diane was surprised she wasn’t crying. This felt like more of a watershed moment than any of those that had her dissolving in tears lately – every evening actually, on the bus and again on the plane. Perhaps she wasn’t meant to cry here, she thought sarcastically.

Shifting her weight, Diane wrapped her fingers around the cold steel, feeling the warmth drawn out of her fingers. The sensation was familiar, but this time it triggered a single memory, crystal clear.

The first time they’d come up here, the cold rail gripped hard, a wish thrown out into the air with almost desperate abandon.

_Stop the world. I don’t want to go back. Please…_

Diane gasped. That had been her wish. To stop the world, to stay here. Was this all her doing? Had her wish pulled she and Nick into this loop until she did something? But what? They still hadn’t found anything, and the only hypothesis she had felt ludicrous, impossible.

What could she do? They were stuck, and it was on her to change it.

Another wish, maybe. If the first one came true, why not another? Diane thought.

Gripping the rail, she closed her eyes, willing the same emotion to fill her. When it had, she threw the wish high in the air, begging whatever had been listening that first time.

_Let it end. Let us go back to our lives. Please…_

Nothing happened, which was disappointing and unsurprising in the same breath.

“Diane?”

Nick’s voice was familiar in layers. How had she dragged him into this? A wave of guilt washed over her. He was being so lovely about it all, but if it was her wish that had brought them into the same day over and over she should do something. Apologise or something.

“We should take the photo,” Diane told him.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

It was the first time he’d asked such a direct question since this had started.

“Just confused,” Diane told him. “About what all this could mean.”

He nodded. “If there’s anything I can do to help,” he said, and the concern in his voice rang with sincerity. “To make it easier.”

She nodded. “Let’s take the photo.”

They both moved into position without comment, and when it was done she didn’t want to look at it. It would only be the same as yesterday.

The walk down from the lookout, back to the shelter, waiting for the bus – it all blurred together. She just wanted to know what was going to happen in the morning. How could she plan for tomorrow if she didn’t even know where she’d be? The fact that everyone had been asking themselves that same question for days wasn’t lost on her, and Diane felt herself on the verge of tears by the time their flight was announced.

“Are you ready?” Nick asked from the cot beside her. She hadn’t even noticed that he’d picked up her hand; now she squeezed it before standing.

“Yes,” she said simply.

When he was standing beside her, Nick wrapped one arm around her, pulling her in for a hug. She closed her eyes, allowing his body heat to warm her a little before the moved to join the line. She felt tired already, and wondered if falling asleep on the bus would throw things out.

_How could things be more out of whack than this?_

As it was, things progressed so predictably she barely needed to concentrate. Bus, sitting close to Nick; tears, and his arm around her shoulders. Few words, spoken quietly, and his eyes on her. Plane, their usual seats; tears again, and this time she turned into him when his arm wrapped around her, the kiss on her temple lingering.

Before she fell asleep, her tears soaked his shoulder.


	5. Day 5: Saturday 15th September, 2001

Blinking at the ceiling, Diane didn’t even flinch when the morning chorus began. She simply rolled and sat up, smiling tightly at Nick before taking herself to the bathroom.

“…no, we wanted to go up to that great lookout, but it’s all stairs so I can’t take Millie with us…”

The snippet of conversation as she passed a pair of women and their toddlers was like a slap in the face and Diane almost stumbled.

_Dover Fault lookout._

Well, that was early in the day, she thought to herself. And it certainly had nothing to do with Nick.

He was waiting for her when she returned.

“Breakfast?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied. “One reference already to the lookout.”

“Already?” Nick asked in surprise.

“Yes,” she said again.

Before they could join the breakfast line, Claire stepped over to them, a wide smile on her face. Diane definitely saw her eyes flick down to their joined hands before she spoke. Funny, she didn’t even remember reaching for Nick.

“Good morning,” she said. “How’re you two doing this morning?”

“Let me guess,” Diane said. “Hurricane, clearance probably late this afternoon, we should stay close. We’re planning on going up to the Dover Fault lookout if you need us.” She flashed a tight smile and walked over to pour coffee, regretting her outburst almost immediately.

A moment later Nick joined her, and she handed him his tea. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“I think she was a little surprised that you got there before she did,” Nick said.

“I was really rude to her,” Diane admitted. “I should find her.”

“She understands,” Nick said. “Everyone’s under a lot of stress.”

“Still,” Diane sighed.

“It’s okay,” Nick said as they sat. His hand covered hers on the table, and she laced their fingers together. Such casual intimacy was becoming second nature, and she didn’t know where that sat with her. It was comforting, of course, but…

“I am glad you’re here,” Diane said.

They sat quietly for a few minutes, Diane lost in her own head.

“Shall we get some air?” Nick suggested.

Pushing her plate away, Diane agreed. They wandered around the town for a while, neither mentioning anything of consequence. Diane felt herself on edge for references to the Dover Fault, but none came.

It wasn’t until they were sitting in Tim Horton’s – again – that anything happened. They were cradling their drinks, Diane privately wondering what else they could do to put off going to the lookout. Wondering if that would even work. It wouldn’t surprise her at this stage if they walked through a doorway and ended up at the lookout, such was the surrealistic nature of things.

“How’re you doing?” A voice broke into her reverie, the distinctive Newfoundland accent a giveaway that it was a local asking.

“Hi,” Diane said, pulling herself out enough to smile at the man who’d just pulled up a chair to their table. She frowned. “I recognise you, I’m sorry, I don’t remember where…”

He grinned at her. “You’re the Texan who is not married to this Englishman,” he said. She knew her expression was blank – she had no idea what he was talking about.

“The screech in?” he prompted.

“That night at the Legion,” Nick reminded her. He said to the man, “Diane had a few beers that evening.”

“Well that accounts for it, then,” he said, looking between the two. “I’m Glen Davis. I offered to marry you two, you know.”

“Did you?” Diane asked. She looked at Nick. “I don’t remember that,” she said to him.

“It was a crazy night,” he said.

From the look Glen was giving them both, some interesting things certainly happened, but she had no idea.

“We might be flying out tonight,” Diane told him. “If the wind doesn’t pick up too much.”

“Any plans for the afternoon before that?”

“We thought we’d go for a walk somewhere,” Nick said. “It’s beautiful around here.”

“Well!” Glen said, his grin widening. He reached into his bag and pulled out a hipflask. “Take this up to Dover Fault lookout. Best view around here, and this might jog your memory about the screech in.”

He brushed off their protestations, (“Just drop it back here, tell Crystal it’s mine,”) and stood, waving to Crystal behind the counter as he left.

“Well,” Diane said. “I guess we’re heading up, then.”

“It appears that way,” Nick agreed. They started in that direction, Nick slipping the hipflask in his jacket pocket. Diane remembered that evening with a kind of vagueness. She’d never had so much to drink in one night in her whole life, and the following morning she’d had the distinct impression Nick had remembered something she hadn’t, but neither had pushed the conversation.

“Well, make sure you get up to Dover Fault lookout before you go,” they heard someone say as they passed a group.

“Oh, we were there yesterday, it’s beautiful!” the reply came.

Diane glanced at Nick, who was suppressing a smile to match her own.

“There really is no escaping it, is there?” she said.

“Whatever else is meant to happen, we are definitely meant to end up at the top of all those stairs,” Nick agreed. He groaned theatrically as they turned onto the track leading to the top.

This time, Diane slowed, waiting for Nick to go ahead of her. It was so familiar now. The view from different parts of the lookout, the way the fog sat over the land and water. Knowing it was the same day didn’t help shake the odd sensation brought on from the identical weather on each of the visits.

Without approaching the edge, Diane sat instead on one of the stairs. She couldn’t see the view, but it didn’t matter; the image was seared on her memory anyway. Whatever was supposed to happen here – and she was beginning to suspect exactly what that was – it couldn’t possibly require her to admire the view.

“Diane?” Nick said.

She didn’t answer, but he sat next to her anyway, looping his arm around her shoulder as he settled. She sighed, leaning into him a little. “How long do you think we’re supposed to be up here?”

Nick shrugged. “As long as it takes?” he hazarded.

Diane nodded. They sat in silence for a while, and it was…relaxing. Since all the Saturdays, their relationship had been veered between ‘more strained’ and ‘easier’, which made sense, but she’d missed this. They’d walked a lot while in Gander, mainly at her suggestion, and as they’d eased into their friendship the silences grew. Comfortable hours spent together, and conversation just wasn’t always necessary.

She didn’t know how long they sat there, but eventually a question rose in her mind. “What did Glen mean about the screech in?”

She felt Nick turn to look at her. They were too close, she kept her eyes on the weatherworn boards beneath her feet instead.

“Which part?” he asked.

Diane considered the question for a moment. “All of it, I guess,” she said. “Did he really offer to marry us?”

“He did,” Nick said. “Do you not remember?”

“Most of that night is a little vague,” Diane admitted. She frowned. “Was there a fish at some point?”

“There was,” Nick confirmed.

Diane eased away a little so she could look at him without feeling like they were about to kiss each other. “I don’t really remember what happened with the fish,” she said.

“That would be the fault of the screech,” Nick said. “Speaking of which,” he pulled out the hipflask. “Last time you said it was delicious.”

“I did?” Diane said.

“Actually I think you said, ‘delishush’,” he corrected with a smile.

“I did not,” she protested.

“Oh, you did,” Nick said. He offered her the flask. “Go on, see if it refreshes your memory.”

Hesitantly, she took the flask from him and put it to her lips. Before she could drink, a flash of memory hit. “Oh, my God, Glen thought we were married!”

“Yes,” Nick said, amused, “that was why he offered to marry us.”

Diane shook her head. “I don’t even want to know what I said to that.” She glanced at Nick, whose smirk made the answer clear. “I said yes, didn’t I?”

“I believe the phrase was, ‘Why not?’” he confirmed.

“Oh my God,” she groaned, and tipped the hipflask to her lips without further ado. It burned hot and sharp on the way down.

“Oh, that’s terrible!” she exclaimed. A shudder ran down her back. “Did I really say it was good?”

“You did,” Nick said. He took a swig from the flask, wincing at the burn. “Yes, it’s still horrendous.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had that many beers at one time,” Diane mused.

“They were certainly encouraging,” Nick murmured.

“I do remember you buying me a beer or two,” Diane said, digging one elbow into his ribs.

“I’m sure you asked me for them,” Nick said.

“I probably did,” Diane said. She turned her head, looking back over the view. “I don’t feel like the same person here.”

“I know what you mean,” Nick replied. “It’s like we’re not part of the world here.”

Diane smiled at him. “And we can be whoever we want to be.”

“Indeed,” Nick murmured. He tilted his head, looking at her. “Do you think the change will last?” he asked. “When you return to Dallas.”

Diane thought about it. “I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I don’t know what the rest of the world will be like. If I’m different, the rest of the world might be too.”

Nick nodded. “I’d forgotten what it was like,” he said. “Not working all the time.”

Diane nodded. She’d heard Nick’s story, knew he loved his job but felt like there was nothing in his life that brought him joy any more. That had been part of their late night conversation, eating sandwiches at 3AM at the shelter.

Another thing she hadn’t done in a long time, if ever.

“I’d like some of the changes to last,” she said. She frowned. “It won’t be the same, though. Being at home.”

“No,” Nick agreed. “Work, for one.”

“A proper bed,” Diane added.

“No children shouting for pancakes in the morning,” Nick said.

Diane groaned. “Of all the days to do over,” she said. “Though that kid is nothing if not consistent.”

“I will not miss standing in line for a meal,” Nick said. “I will miss the toutons.”

‘I’m sure you could find them in London,” Diane said. “Maybe.”

“I’ll have to look,” Nick said. “They won’t be the same, though.”

“I don’t think anything will be,” Diane replied, and it wasn’t until she spoke she realised that her words had a double meaning. She’d meant the food, of course, but her words could also refer to…everything. Her whole life.

Without Nick.

“David will still be there,” Nick pointed out. “And your work, your friends.”

“Yes,” Diane said. She certainly missed her friends. Having another woman to bounce ideas off, to share her anxieties with. She couldn’t explain why she still felt different, unsure if this new version of her would stick, and if it would, where would she fit back into her own life?

Sighing, a little restless and having forgotten about the extra days for a few moments, she stood, walking to the rail again. Deliberately not gripping it, she leaned elbows instead, looking over the familiar sight. Would this be the last time, or would they be here tomorrow as well?

“I wonder what it looks like on a different day,” Nick said from beside her. He was copying her, leaning his elbows on the rail.

Without speaking, Diane slid over until she was standing right next to him, their shoulders bumping. “We could always come back,” she said.

“What?” he said.

“Next year, or the following, maybe,” Diane continued, feeling more foolish the more she kept talking. “It’s just an idea.”

“That sounds lovely,” Nick replied. “Oh, before we forget, we need a photo.”

He pulled out his camera.

“Sure,” Diane said. She turned, and Nick took only a couple of steps back before he took the photo. “You were not even pretending to take a photo of the scenery,” she protested.

“I already have photos of the scenery,” he said. “I don’t have a photo of you from today. This today,” he amended.

“Okay,” she replied. “We should probably head back.”

“We have to remember to leave the hipflask at Tim Horton’s,” Nick said.

“Should we drink the rest of the screech first?” Diane asked, taking his hand when his camera was safely stowed.

“I don’t think so,” Nick replied. “We might forget the rest of the day. It’s pretty strong stuff, I think.”

“Glen said the screech might job my memory,” Diane reminded Nick. “What else happened that I don’t remember?”

Nick didn’t answer for a moment, and Diane wondered what she might have done without realising it. “We were sworn in as honorary Newfoundlanders,” he said finally. “You volunteered us.”

“I did?” she said. “Oh, Nick, I’m so sorry.”

“No, it was fine,” he replied. “A novel experience.”

“How very English,” she said, parroting his accent.

“I am,” he said, and his eyes held hers. They were calm, but when she didn’t move, his smile was a little sad, and he offered her his hand. “Shall we go?”

Diane took his hand, her heat beating fast. They’d never acknowledged the physical intimacy as it had developed; touch had simply been offered and accepted, but this felt more deliberate. Like a step towards something.

As they started down the stairs, slowly, hand in hand, Diane had to consider the obvious. That Nick had figured out what she had been fighting. Hell, he’d worked out it was about her before she did, and if so, if the decision was hers, he was too much of a gentleman to push it.

He’d know they would have another Saturday tomorrow.

“Careful,” Nick’s voice came, as she stumbled. His fingers tightened, stopping her from falling.

“Thank you,” she replied, her voice catching. She stopped, breathing deeply for a moment. “I just need…a minute.” Her mind was still struggling to accept what had been hovering, stronger and closer, for several Saturdays now. It was difficult to believe that she wasn’t dreaming, that he wouldn’t forget about her…that she wouldn’t end up alone again. Faith had never been her strong suit.

“Take all the time you need,” Nick said, and something in his voice made her look up at him. She could feel her expression, knew her eyes were wide, and she wondered what Nick could see in her eyes. He’d told her twice that she was easy to read. Could he see it now? The fear of taking such a risk?

_It would be easier if it didn’t matter so much._

“It’s okay,” he said again, with the same tone. “I can wait.”

He wasn’t talking about her stumbling on the path, she was certain now. Giving him an uncertain smile, she whispered, “Thank you.”

They stood for a moment until her legs were steadier. Without looking, Diane squeezed his hand, and they began again down the stairs.

Neither spoke until they reached the shelter again, and Diane saw Claire speaking to another passenger.

“I’ll just be a minute,” she said.

He followed her gaze and nodded. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please,” she said, and he headed towards the cafeteria.

“Claire?” Diane said, when she’d finished her conversation.

“Hi, Diane,” Claire said.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Diane said. “I’m just…under a lot of stress. Of course, we all are, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“Oh, I understand,” Claire said. “I’ve had the same conversation a hundred times, and everyone reacts differently. And we’re all stuck here the same.”

_Not quite the same._

“Yes,” Diane said. “Well, Nick and I are back now, so we’re ready to go when the time comes.”

“So you did go up to the Dover Fault lookout,” Claire said, her face lighting up.

“We did,” Diane said. _Again._

“And?” Claire said.

“And what?” Diane said, but her flaming cheeks gave her away.

“Oh don’t tell me you haven’t…you know,” Claire said. Diane deliberately didn’t answer, and Claire added in a whisper, “He has kissed you, hasn’t he?”

“Claire!” Diane hissed, looking around.

“He’s not here,” Claire told her. Glancing around, she pulled Diane into a quieter hallway. “Look, I know we don’t really know each other but you two are looking mighty cosy.”

“Yes, well, he’s English,” Diane said lamely.

“So?” Claire exclaimed.

“And I’m from Texas!” Diane explained. “There’s a whole ocean between his life and mine.”

“Not today, there’s not,” Claire said. “And there doesn’t have to be tomorrow, if you don’t want there to be.”

Diane stared at her. This was not a conversation she’d had on any of the other Saturdays, and she was entirely unprepared for it.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to…” Claire started, but Diane stopped her.

“No, I think I need…a friend,” she said with a hopeless little smile. “I have no idea if…is this even a good idea?”

“Do you want him to kiss you?” Claire asked, and her abrupt question took Diane by surprise.

“Well, yes,” she admitted with a shyness that was not usually hers, “but I have no idea if this is even something he wants.”

Claire tilted her head sympathetically. “You can’t even see how he looks at you, can you?”

“What?” Diane asked. “How…how does he look at me?”

“Like a repressed Englishman looks at the woman he wants to,” she put on a bad English accent, “snog senseless,” Claire said with a grin.

“Claire!” Diane hissed again, feeling herself blush.

“Well, he does. Especially today,” Claire said. “He could barely take his eyes off you this morning, and nobody pines like an Englishman.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Diane told her, but there was a camaraderie in the way they giggled together. Something she’d been sorely missing while she was here. She exhaled, feeling some of her anxiety leave with her breath. “Thank you,” she said, impulsively hugging Claire. “I needed this.”

“Go get him,” Claire grinned. “And invite me to the wedding, okay?”

“Claire,” Diane admonished her.

“Okay, well kiss him before you leave Canada, then,” Claire shot back. She winked, then turned to leave.

Diane took a minute to breathe. She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed having a confidante during the whole time in Gander, but the Saturdays in particular. There had been so much thinking, assessing her own point of view and trying to see how Nick might be feeling.

Claire was obviously rooting for them to get together, but even without her enthusiasm, another perspective was useful. Diane thought back over their time in Gander.

Glen had thought they were together at the screech in. And he’d offered to marry them.

The women in the Church were sceptical when she told them they were just friends.

The couple at the table in Tim Horton’s thought they were a couple.

Claire seemed convinced Nick was interested in her.

Perhaps it was obvious to everyone but her?

And if something was stopping them from leaving, and leading them to the Dover Fault lookout every Saturday…

A wave of certainty washed over Diane, mixed with relief. How had she not seen it before? Everything pointed in the same direction, and she’d been too scared to look, but now, with almost a week’s worth of Saturdays behind her, it was irrefutable.

And she knew what she needed to do. It made her heart thump fast, the last shred of fear still threading through her heart, but having had these few days with Nick increasingly close showed her what might be. What could be, if she would only take the first step.

Three deep breaths, and a smile broke as Diane pushed off the wall and went in search of Nick.

It would have to wait until tomorrow, at the lookout. It felt like that was the right place. But until then, she wanted to enjoy their last few hours in Gander.

“Hi,” she said, finding him in the cafeteria. He was sitting close to the coffee station, and jumped up when he saw her.

“You coffee went cold,” he said. “I can make you another.”

“I’ve got it,” she said, smiling at him. “You sit.”

Noting that his tea was almost done, Diane made him another, bringing both to the table as she sat.

“Things alright with Claire?” Nick asked.

“Yes, thank you,” Diane replied. Her coffee was just what she needed, and she smiled again at Nick as she sipped.

“You seem a little different,” Nick said hesitantly.

“You know, I think I am,” Diane replied. Nick raised an eyebrow, so she thought, finding the right words to explain without giving anything away. “I’ve been so worried about whether or not we’ll be here tomorrow I haven’t been enjoying the time we have here.”

“And you think we might be here tomorrow?” Nick said. His voice was heavy with meaning, which Diane couldn’t help but understand.

“I don’t know,” Diane said honestly. _This could all end, regardless of what happens today._ She reached out, taking Nick’s hand and looking more directly into his eyes than she had in several Saturdays. “Maybe we can just enjoy having the rest of today together.”

He looked…disappointed? Confused, certainly. His eyes searched hers, and her heart flipped a little when he finally nodded slowly. Trusting her, she hoped. “We don’t have too long until our flight.”

“No,” she agreed. _Just one more day, trust me for one more day._ “We could get some sandwiches if you’re hungry?”

His fingers tightened on her, and the hesitant smile broadened at her attempt at a joke. ”If we could find some cod tongue, that would be perfect.”

Diane shuddered. “That will never be funny,” she said. “Unless you’re planning on eating them.”

“No,” he agreed. “Definitely not.”

“I guess we should get ourselves packed,” Diane said. “Unless you actually are hungry?”

“Not for sandwiches,” Nick replied as they took their cups back to the kitchen. “But I didn’t see any toutons, so I’ll wait.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever make another sandwich again,” Diane agreed. They made their way to their cots, picking up the last few belongings and ensuring their bags were ready to go.

“Done,” Nick said, seating himself on Diane’s cot. She scooted close as he raised his arm to her shoulders; they glanced at each other with a smile. _Great minds,_ Diane thought to herself. They relaxed into each other, and for a moment, she marvelled at how comfortable they’d become. There was just that one detail missing, and as much as she wanted to turn to Nick now…it didn’t feel right. They’d waited this long, and if things went the way they had, they’d wake up tomorrow in Gander, find themselves at the Dover Fault lookout. She couldn’t resist a small smile. Who would have believed she’d have veered so wildly from wanting to go home to wanting to stay, back and forth over such a short time?

The time passed as Diane knew it would, and this time the familiarity flowed around her. When their flight was called, she took a deep breath, glancing at Nick. They shared a smile, picking up bags with one hand and lacing their fingers with the other. Checking in went smoothly, and Diane ignored the questioning look Claire shot her as they passed.

“Is Claire alright?” Nick asked. “She looked…anxious.”

“She’s fine,” Diane said. “Just wanting to know we’re okay.”

“Ah,” Nick replied.

It was oddly emotional, knowing Claire was rooting for her, and Diane felt guilt rise slowly in her. She was misleading Nick, drawing out this process which must be as agonising for him as for her. More, if he knew what needed to happen but couldn’t do anything about it.

_I’m sorry._

They sat in their usual seats in the bus, and it didn’t surprise Diane that tears started rolling down her cheeks almost immediately. It seemed to be part of the whole repeated day, that she was emotional enough to cry on the bus. Nick’s arm was already around her, but his hand was rubbing her upper arm, and she felt the kiss he pressed into her forehead as though it was a brand.

“Good news,” he murmured, and she almost smiled.

Diane closed her eyes, her hand resting on his knee, choking up so badly as she tried to control her sobs that she could barely breathe. They were so close to it, to each other, and yet her acceptance of the rules of this bizarre situation told her that _where_ was as important as _what_. Here and now wasn’t right. It had to be Saturday at the lookout.

By the time they reached the plane, she could feel her eyes burning. Nick took her hand as they stepped out, and before they could move across the tarmac she turned into him, hugging him tight. His arms came around her too, and they stood for a long moment. Diane knew she was holding tight, but his own arms were firm around her too. It made her feel safe. Trusted, given all that was happening.

“Okay,” she said finally. “Let’s board this plane.”

“Yes,” Nick replied. They were among the last to board, and Diane wondered fleetingly if their usual seats would be taken by now. As they entered the cabin, Claire caught her eye and winked, pointing them in the direction of their seats.

“Saved you two together,” she said.

“Thank you,” Diane managed.

Once they sat – seatbelts on, listening to the familiar softening of the noise as they made to take off – Diane’s heart started thrumming. This was when they’d find out what was going to happen. Would they find themselves drifting off only to land in Dallas in a few hours? Or would another day in Gander await them?

Impulsively, she made a wish. It wasn’t the same place, or the same time, but she could feel a cold railing under her fingers, and her desperation tore at her very soul.

_Please. One more day. One more chance. I understand now. Please…_

As the wheels left the earth, the familiar cheer went up, and Diane turned to Nick, one arm wrapping around his waist, her face pressed into his shoulder. It was almost presumptuous, but she was past worrying about that anymore. Whatever happened, she wanted to fall asleep holding him.

“Diane?” Nick murmured. She could feel his chest rumbling beneath her, and her arm tightened around him.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“Pardon?” he said.

Taking a deep breath, she spoke again. Louder. Not letting go. _Can’t let go._ “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” he said, his voice quiet but close to her ear. “I said I’d wait, remember?” He pressed a kiss into her hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Warmth filled Diane as she slipped into sleep.

Within moments, Nick fell asleep too.


	6. Day 6: Saturday 15th September, 2001

For all the sameness, Diane felt different today. It was still Saturday; the child, the woman and the profane man were still the same, but she felt…calmer. More certain of what the day would bring.

It would be with Nick, here in Gander.

“Is this five or six now?” Nick asked from beside her.

Diane turned to see him sitting up beside her. He was smiling, and she returned it. “Six, I think,” she said.

“Practically an extra week,” Nick said.

“Yes,” Diane said. “What should we do today?” Her question was teasing; the day felt light, and she was impatient to get to the lookout, but she also wanted to share this anticipation with Nick. To show him she knew, that it was today, and they were heading to the destination he’d seen far before her. He’d been so patient until now, and she couldn’t mislead him any longer.

“I don’t know,” Nick said, and his smile was widening as he studied her. “I have a feeling you might have a plan.”

“I’ve heard about a lookout that’s meant to be nice,” she said. “I forget what it’s called but there are a whole lot of stairs.”

Nick groaned.

Diane grinned as she leaned forward. “I think you should come. See the view. Experience what’s there to be experienced.”

“You think it’s important?” Nick said, following along with her teasing tone.

“I do,” Diane replied, and the double entendre hit them both at the same time. All of sudden they were giggling together, and a rush of joy washed through her. Now that she knew what was happening, and more importantly, Nick knew too – they could have fun with it. Enjoy this time, the anticipation of what now felt inevitable.

“We should let everyone rest,” she said, looking at the people still trying to sleep.

“Yes, you should,” Nick’s neighbour said pointedly from his cot.

Diane met Nick’s eyes, and they scrambled up, joining hands as they hurried out, barely holding in their mirth until they made it out of the hall. Laughing hard, leaning against the wall outside, tears in her eyes as they laughed at the ridiculous moment.

“Breakfast?” Diane asked. “I bet you’re starving.”

“It doesn’t seem to matter how much I eat the previous day,” Nick mused, “I’m still starving on Saturday morning.” The line was almost non-existent today, and they were soon seated with their meals.

“I wonder if we’d be hungover if we’d drunk the rest of that screech?” Diane wondered. Her face brightened as she said, “If we go back to Tim Horton’s, do you think Glen would be there again?”

Nick frowned. “Are you going to ask him for more screech?”

“Either that or we could get married,” she said, grinning at Nick as he almost dropped his tea in surprise. “I’m just kidding,” she told him. “But it would be interesting to find out if he was there.”

“Well, we have to do something with our day,” Nick said. “So I’ll leave it up to you.” His eyes were sparkling, Diane thought, and he looked happier than she’d seen. Granted, their time in Gander had been stressful and more about worry than fun, but it was quite lovely to see him looking more relaxed.

“Actually,” Diane said, “I do have an idea or two.”

“Well then,” Nick said, “Lead on. After breakfast.”

“Of course,” Diane said. “Hate to miss your toutons.”

“Absolutely,” Nick replied.

Diane ate more breakfast than she had in days – finally, her appetite had returned. The roiling anxiety in her stomach was gone, and she was looking forward to their day. She knew the weather would hold, and for the first time since they had arrived, she had an idea of what they would do – and it would be fun.

“Meet you in the foyer?” Diane said, draining her coffee. “I just need ten minutes.”

“Sure,” Nick said. Before she could go, Nick grabbed her hand, and Diane looked down at him. “I told you I can wait.”

Diane smiled, his message hitting her right in the heart. She squeezed his hand. “I won’t be long.”

Thank God her makeup had been in her carry-on; a few moments in the ladies’ made her feel much better. Nick had seen her in the morning before make-up, but it was still important for today.

“Diane!” Claire’s voice echoed through the bathrooms. “Hi, I’m glad I ran into you.”

“Hi Claire,” Diane said, brushing her hair. The wind would ruin it in moments, of course, but she still wanted to make the effort.

“You look nice,” Claire said, giving Diane a very particular kind of look. The look that said, from one woman to another, ‘I know who all that is for.’

“Nick and I are going for a picnic,” Diane said. “He doesn’t know yet.”

“Oh, where are you going?” Claire asked.

An impish impulse crossed Diane. “I don’t know yet,” she said, biting back a smile. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“Oh, you should go up to the Dover Fault lookout,” Claire said. “I went up there earlier this week, it’s beautiful.”

 _I was there yesterday._ Diane smiled to herself. “Sounds great,” she said.

“You two are pretty inseparable, aren’t you?” Claire said, eyes sparkling. “He’s a bit of a catch, I’d say, Diane.”

“You know, Claire?” Diane said, packing the last of her belongings away, “I have to agree.”

“Wait!” Claire said before she could go. “I wanted to tell you, hurricane’s coming in, but we’re hoping we’ll get clearance to take off late this afternoon. Stay close to the shelters, and let someone know if you do go anywhere so we can come get you if we need to.”

“We will,” Diane promised. “Thanks, Claire.” Impulsively, she hugged the flight attendant, who laughed in surprise.

A moment later, Diane met Nick in the foyer. “You ready?” she asked.

“I am,” he said. A small frown came over him. “Are you…have you done something different?”

“Oh, just a bit of a polish,” Diane told him. “Do you have your camera?”

“Yes,” Nick replied. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Nowhere new,” Diane told him, grinning as he took her hand. She held his eyes for a moment on purpose, hoping he could see the affection there. It had always been there, but she had been too afraid to let it show. Now, she hoped it was visible, blazing out of every pore.

“Should I be worried?” Nick asked. “We’re not going to another screech in, I hope?”

“Not a cod tongue in sight,” Diane assured him. “Or any other fish, for that matter.”

“Alright,” he replied. She lead him for a walk through the town much the same as any other day, and their conversation flowed. She could feel herself slipping back towards her own persona, one more open and chatty than she’d had the ability to be over the past few Saturdays. Nick carried his part, but mostly she could sense him watching her. How had she not noticed before?

After a while, she guided them to a familiar building, watching Nick’s face when he realised where they were – Tim Horton’s.

Nick laughed. “Were you actually hoping to see Glen again?” he asked.

“Yes and no,” Diane replied. “I don’t know if he’ll be here. But I did want to buy another bear claw.” She grinned at him. “It was really good the other day.”

“Fair enough,” Nick said. He stood by while she ordered bottles of water and two bear claws.

“Can I get you a sandwich, hon?” Crystal asked. “Just about lunchtime, you know.”

“Sure,” Diane said, ignoring Nick squeezing her fingers. “That’d be great, thanks.”

They waited as Crystal bagged up their order, once again refusing payment. Diane emptied her purse of US dollars, stuffing them into the tip jar. “You’ve been so kind,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, hon,” Crystal replied.

“Well, I guess we missed-” Diane started, handing the food to Nick and turning.

“Well hello you two!” Glen said, cutting Diane off. “Fancy running into you here!”

“Hi Glen,” Diane greeted him. “How are you?”

“Not too bad,” he replied. “Looks like you two are heading out somewhere?”

“Up to Dover Fault lookout,” Nick said. “Diane thought we should take provisions.”

“Ah, well, let me add to the party,” Glen said, fishing out his hipflask. He tucked it into the carry bag Nick was holding, and winked at him. “We both know a drop of screech’ll liven things up!”

Diane had no idea what he was talking about, but from the high spots of colour on his cheeks, Nick knew exactly – and it was making him flustered. Adorably so.

_I must ask him about that._

“Thank you,” Diane said. “Should we leave it here with Crystal?”

“Sure,” Glen said. “And if you two ever do decide to get married, I’m your man!”

“Thank you,” Diane said, then tugged on Nick’s hand to get them moving.

“Well, you’ve got your screech,” Nick said. “Any plans to finish it today?”

“I don’t think so,” Diane said. “I’d like to remember the rest of this afternoon.”

“Fair enough,” Nick said. When they arrived at the base of the stairs, he groaned. “I wouldn’t mind forgetting this part.”

“Come on,” Diane said, tugging on his hand. “I wonder if you’re fitter now? You’ve climbed these stairs every Saturday we’ve been here.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Nick said. They climbed for a bit, until a bend in the path brought them their first view of the fault.

“We’ve never stopped here,” Diane said. “Let’s wait a minute.”

“Good idea,” Nick groaned. He placed their Tim Horton’s bag on the ground and stepped back towards Diane. Her heart fluttered, but she pushed down the nerves.

_Not yet. Not quite right._

They both moved, arms wrapping around each other even as they looked out at the view. “Looks different,” Diane murmured.

“That might be us,” Nick said. “We’re not looking at it the same.”

“No, we’re not,” Diane agreed. Standing here in Nick’s arms, she felt calm. Safe. Like this was right.

“Shall we continue?” Nick asked.

Reluctantly, Diane agreed. It wasn’t far to the top, and in only a few minutes they were there. It was empty, as it always had been; a small tension she didn’t realise she’d been carrying loosened. If there had been other people there…

“Are you hungry?” Nick asked. “I can offer you a sandwich.”

Diane grinned at him, sitting on the edge of the upper platform. “Depends. What kind do you have?”

Nick opened the bag, squinting at the contents. “Oh my…” he looked up at her, his expression somewhere between horrified and amused. “I’m pretty sure these are cod tongue sandwiches.”

“You’re kidding,” Diane gasped. Nick turned the sandwich towards her and she recoiled. “Urgh, no way,” she said, laughing. “I am not eating that.”

“I know,” Nick said, passing her a bag with a bear claw instead.

“What do you mean?” Diane asked, pulling a piece of pastry off and eating it. “Mm, these are so good.”

Nick tucked the sandwiches away and took out his own bear claw, examining it before he answered her. “You remember when we met Glen in the coffee shop, the first time?” he said.

“Yes,” Diane replied. “He was a bit weird.”

“Well, he and I both remember the night of the screech in,” Nick said. He glanced at Diane. “I think he realised quite quickly you don’t.”

“The screech in?” Diane repeated. “What happened at the screech in?”

The longer Nick paused, the more nervous she became. “Oh God, I did something embarrassing, didn’t I?”

“Apart from agreeing to get married?” Nick said, teasing.

“Yes, apart from that,” Diane said, rolling her eyes.

Nick shrugged, and Diane discarded her bear claw, burying her face in her hands. “What did I do? Oh God, why did I drink so much beer?”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Nick said hastily. “Diane. Will you look at me?”

Diane winced into her hands. She took a deep breath and looked up. Nick had shuffled closer, and he was now looking at her intensely. When he didn’t speak immediately, she felt something tingle through her middle.

_This is important._

“During the screech in,” Nick said, “we all drank the screech.” He shuddered. “It was horrific.”

“I remember it being horrific,” Diane said. “But I think I remember it from yesterday. Did you really say…did I really call it ‘delicious’?”

Nick’s lip twitched. “It was more like, ‘delishush’,” he corrected. “There was a definite slur there at the end.”

“There was not,” Diane said, swatting at his hand.

“There certainly was,” he said. “Anyway, you remember the fish?”

She shuddered. “I remember the fish. I don’t remember what happened after the fish.”

“Ah,” Nick said. “Well, that’s a vital part of the ceremony, apparently.”

“What is?” Diane asked.

“You have to kiss the fish,” Nick told her.

“Urgh!” Diane shuddered. She stood up, shuddering again, glancing at Nick, encouraging him to follow her as she walked towards the railing. “I remember you not kissing the fish.”

“No, I did kiss the fish,” Nick corrected her, joining her by the rail. “You said you’d do it if I would.”

“Oh my god, did I kiss the fish?” Diane squeaked.

“No,” Nick replied. “When you wouldn’t, Glen said he’d do you a deal. You could either kiss the fish, or kiss,” he cleared his throat, “this Englishman you’re not married to’.”

Diane stared at him. “I kissed you?”

“You did,” Nick said. He looked searchingly at her. “You really don’t remember?”

“No,” Diane whispered. “Is that why things were strange the next day?”

“I didn’t realise you’d forgotten,” Nick admitted.

Diane stared at him. “I don’t think I should have any more screech.” She swallowed. “I don’t want to forget anything else.”

Nick smiled. “We should take a photo,” he said. He pulled out his camera and pointed it at Diane. She smiled automatically, and it wasn’t until Nick showed her the photo she remembered.

“You’re much closer today,” she said. She flicked back and forward through the photos. The first one was a wide angle, her whole body clearly in shot; as they progressed, they were framed tighter and tighter until today her face filled the shot.

They stood beside the railing and without thinking, Diane put one hand along it, around Nick’s back. The cold metal on her fingertips was shocking, but it sparked something through her whole body.

_Now. Now is the time. Stop being scared and take hold of this moment._

“Actually,” she said, “I think it was more that I was letting you closer.” She turned to him, heart thumping. “I think that’s why you had to be here. And why it had to take so long.” Carefully, she turned off the camera and packed it away, watching Nick tuck it back into his pocket. “I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long,” she whispered, “but I think I finally know what needs to be done.”

“You do?” Nick asked. He looked somewhere between patient and nervous, she thought.

“You’ve been very patient,” Diane told him with a small laugh. “I think you figured it out before me.”

“I think I did,” Nick said, though his voice was kind. “But I wasn’t in a hurry. If we were going to be doing this over and over, as long as I could do it with you,” he shrugged, “why would I be upset about that?”

She smiled. The moment was perfect, and finally, she allowed herself to close the space between them, and he leaned down to meet her. Finally, _finally_ , they kissed, late on Saturday afternoon, alone on the Dover Fault lookout platform. Diane didn’t know if the tingle was from the kiss or something bigger than both of them, but above all else, it felt _right._

+++

“So what do you think will happen tonight?” Nick asked.

They’d spent the rest of the day canoodling up at the lookout, and not a soul had arrived to interrupt them. The joy blooming through Diane soothed away everything else. All her worries about the future, how things would work, even if they’d wake here again tomorrow, another Saturday…none of it mattered. She wanted to enjoy this. Just enjoy it.

“I don’t know,” Diane said. She was leaning against Nick’s chest, his arms wrapped around her. It was glorious. “I think we’ll board the bus, and I’ll cry, and we’ll board the plane, and I’ll cry, and then we’ll fall asleep.”

“The same as every other Saturday,” Nick murmured.

“The same,” Diane agreed. “After that…I think our plane will land in Dallas tomorrow.”

“And we’ll be in Dallas,” Nick said.

“Yes,” Diane said. There was a beat, and she turned to Nick, pressing a kiss to his mouth. It lingered, and when it finally broke, she spoke quietly, one hand cupping his face. “I don’t want to think about that right now. We’ve waited long enough for this,” a quick kiss, prompting a smile, “and I don’t want to spoil it with worrying about the future.”

“Fair enough,” Nick replied. He looked at her fondly. “What do you think will make you cry today?”

“I have no idea,” she said. “But it’s happened every other Saturday, so why not this one?”

“What…if you don’t mind me asking, what was it on the other days?” Nick asked with his typical consideration.

“The other days?” Diane repeated. “Let me think…” She frowned. “The first day was just…everything was mixed up. Going home, not knowing what was happening in the rest of the world. Seeing David, leaving you…” she smiled as Nick’s arms tightened at her last words. “Then you said,” she smiled at the memory, “you said, ‘good news’, and I knew you remembered the previous day, and it made me think of that day again. I think it was more of the same, but when I started to realise what we were supposed to do…”

“What you were supposed to do,” Nick said. He kissed her gently. “I wanted to do that since before the screech in,” he admitted. “And when you elected to kiss me instead of the fish, I thought I might have a chance.”

“Up against a fish?” Diane said, grinning at him. “Stiff competition, there.”

“A slim chance, then,” Nick allowed.

“I started feeling guilty,” Diane admitted. “I was scared of what it would mean for the future, but things were changing anyway, and I just…” she smiled, but it was shaky. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” she whispered.

Gently, Nick leaned in to kiss her. “I understand.” He smiled. “And we certainly have a story to tell, don’t we?”

“I don’t think we can tell this story,” Diane protested, returning his smile. “Nobody would believe us.”

“Well, not all of it,” Nick agreed. “But even the normal part’s fairly good, I think.”

“True,” Diane agreed. She sat up slowly, stretching her neck a little. “We should probably head back to the shelter.”

Nick checked his watch. “You’re right.”

They picked up the remains of their lunch, dropping in the trash can before slowly making their way down the stairs.

“Last time for the stairs?” Diane asked.

“Even if we come back here,” Nick said fervently as they stepped off the bottom step, “I am never climbing those again.”

“Never say never,” Diane said. They smiled again, and their walk home was punctuated with kisses and fond looks.

_Feels like falling in love._

The idea was less scary than it should be, Diane mused as they wandered past Tim Horton’s.

“Oh!” Nick said suddenly. “The screech!”

Diane waited for him on the street as he ducked back inside. She could see him speaking to Crystal, and the goofy grin spread across her face before she could stop it. Oh boy, she sure had it bad.

“Well that looks like the face of someone who had a very good day,” Claire said, appearing beside Diane. She followed Diane’s gaze, her smile broadening as she saw Nick inside. “I knew it! How did it go?”

“It was great,” Diane said. She knew she looked happy; she could feel it radiating out of every inch of her.

“He kissed you?” Claire squeaked.

“More like she kissed me,” Nick said, stepping out of the door. “Several times, in fact.”

Claire’s cheeks reddened, but she clapped her hands and grabbed each in an embrace. “Oh, that’s wonderful news!” She smiled happily at them both. “It’s just so nice to have something lovely happen in all of this.”

“Thank you,” Diane said.

“Well, I’m rounding people up to head back to the shelter,” Claire said. “US airspace should be open soon and they’ll start boarding flights as soon as they can.”

“Okay,” Diane replied.

“Right well I’m heading over to the Baptist Church,” Claire said. “I’ll see you back at the shelter.”

“Is that different?” Nick asked as Claire crossed the road.

“I don’t know,” Diane replied. “I hadn’t thought of that. Do you think things will be different?”

“I don’t know,” Nick replied. “Have you spoken to Claire in the afternoon before?”

“Well, yesterday,” Diane said, frowning. “But I went looking for her.” She shrugged. “I can’t worry about it.”

“Living in the moment?” Nick asked.

“Something like that,” Diane replied. It was as natural as breathing to kiss Nick, and she wondered briefly if he felt it too. “Well we’d better go get ourselves packed.”

“That’s not new,” Nick said, as they walked back towards the shelter.

“No,” Diane said. “We’ve packed every night.”

“Every Saturday night,” Nick replied.

“Yes,” Diane agreed. She wondered if this would be the last time, but pushed the question away.

+++

Sitting on her cot beside Nick waiting for the call to go was very strange, despite having done it already several times.

“This is so strange,” she murmured.

“Being here?” Nick asked.

“Being here with you,” Diane admitted. “The other Saturdays all kind of run together, but this…” she waved her hand “this is different.”

Nick considered her words. It really was very attractive, she thought, that he was so measured in his responses. “Good different or bad?” he asked.

“Do you even need to ask?” Diane replied.

Before Nick could reply, a familiar voice sounded over the buzz around them. “American Airlines flight 32 to Dallas! Assemble in the foyer please! Take everything, you’re heading back to your plane!”

A fizzle of nerves burned through Diane. She glanced at Nick, offering a shaky smile.

_This might be the last time we do this._

“Good news,” he whispered with a smile.

It was so unexpected and thoughtful that she blinked for a moment, then leaned forward to kiss him, gratitude flooding her, firmly quashing the nerves.

“Come on you two, plenty of time for that on the plane!”

Diane blinked, disoriented, and she felt Nick turn to face the voice alongside her. Diane recognised him as the Scottish father whose daughter wanted pancakes so early in the morning. He grinned at her, and the little girl sitting on his shoulders waved.

“Are they in love, Daddy?” she asked as they turned to leave.

Diane felt her face flush, and she didn’t look at Nick. Neither of them had talked about anything further than Dallas. She imagined Nick was respecting what she’d said at the lookout, but now the end was rushing closer…

“Let’s go,” she said.

That he didn’t comment was perfect, yet her heart broke a little at the same time. She had no idea how he felt about her in that respect. A small panic rose as they checked in. A bunch of ‘what-ifs’ bubbled up and she fought to push them down. Would they have time to have that conversation? Would it even be necessary tonight? They might even have tomorrow in Gander…

_Gosh darn it, don’t do this now._

“Diane?” Nick’s voice pulled her out of her reverie, and she realised they were on the bus.

“Yes?” she said, turning to him. She knew her tears would be visible, but she wasn’t hiding them anymore.

She could see him wrestling with the question before he asked it. “What is it today?”

In any other context the question might have sounded harsh, but to Diane, it was gentle and intimate.

“Did you hear her?” Diane asked, her voice thick with emotion.

“Who?” Nick asked.

“The girl in the shelter,” Diane replied. _Don’t make me say it._

From the expression on his face, she knew the answer before he said it. “Yes.”

Diane nodded, then shrugged. “We haven’t talked about...anything,” she said. “I didn’t want to, but now it’s in my head to wonder…”

Nick was quiet for a while, before he said quietly, “Can I put your mind to rest?”

“Please,” Diane replied. Her heart was thumping now as she tried to anticipate what he might say. _No, stop it, just let him speak._

“I’m falling in love with you,” Nick said, his words clear and simple and unintentionally ringing out over a lull in the noise of the bus.

Diane found herself wanting to speak, knowing what she wanted to say…but for the first time in a long time, she was speechless.

So, she kissed him, fingers shaking as they curled into the lapels of his jacket. When the kiss broke, she realised the rush in her ears wasn’t just blood pounding; the people around them were applauding, of all things.

“Did you two meet here?” someone asked, and Diane nodded, flushing again at the applause.

“Do they really need to do that?” she asked Nick, pulling him close so her words were for his ears only.

“I think they do,” Nick replied. His arms still curved protectively around her, and she leaned into it, enjoying taking refuge in his embrace.

The bus trip felt shorter, and sooner than she expected they were boarding the plane. Claire greeted them, hugging both, tears running down her face as she worked.

“I’ve been crying since we came aboard,” she told Diane. “Can’t stop. Not sure I want to really.” She laughed a little, wiping at her cheeks.

Diane found tissues in her bag, passing them to her with a smile. As she went to follow Nick towards the same seats they’d occupied on each Saturday, Diane looked around. Usually she was too focussed inwardly; this was the first time she’d really looked around. A lot of people were talking animatedly, not only with their seatmates but those sitting in front or behind them. Several spotted her holding Nick’s hand and smiled at her, and she found herself returning the smiles.

_We’re almost home._

“Almost there,” Nick said as they settled into their seats.

“You really are very good at reading me,” Diane told him. “How did you know I was thinking that?”

“I told you, you wear your heart on your sleeve,” Nick said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “And I’ve been watching your expressions for days.”

Diane frowned a little. “That probably sounded creepier than you intended,” she said, her voice teasing.

“Well, yes,” he said, but stopped when she kissed him.

“Remember the Church?” she asked when she’d eased away. “I left without you.”

“Yes, you did,” Nick said, obviously only just realising. “Why did you?”

“The women I was talking to thought you were David,” Diane explained. “When I explained, they assumed you and I were married.” She frowned. “That happened a lot, didn’t it?”

“I think we might have been the last to know,” Nick agreed.

“Anyway,” Diane said, shaking off her own strangely calm reaction to other people thinking they were married, “they said you were looking at me more than talking to the people in your group.”

“I was,” Nick remembered. “Weren’t they laughing right before you left?”

“They suggested I take you somewhere romantic and plant one on you,” Diane told him. “Guess where they suggested?”

“You’re kidding,” Nick grinned.

“Nope,” Diane replied. “I told you someone had mentioned it in there.”

“Unbelievable,” Nick said, shaking his head.

“All of this has been,” Diane said. “Especially the Saturdays.”

“Especially the Saturdays,” Nick agreed. They fell into silence, joining the rest of the cabin as the tension anticipating take off increased.

This time, when everyone cheered as the wheels left the ground, Diane turned to Nick, meeting him in the middle in a kiss built of relief and celebration. As her fingers curled into the nape of his neck, and his arms encircled her, Diane reflected that no matter what happened from here she was blissfully happy right now. She would carry this with her always.

And that was the thought, on this possibly-last flight out of Gander, that tipped her over into tears. Happy tears this time, but tears nevertheless. They ran down her cheeks as she and Nick kissed, feeling cleansing this time.

Nick’s fingers reached up to cup her cheek, and when he felt the moisture there his mouth turned up into a smile.

“I was wondering,” he murmured, “if we’d make it this time.”

“I’m pretty sure the tears are part of it,” Diane replied. “I am happy,” she said. “Properly happy for the first time in a long time.”

“Happy tears, then,” Nick said.

“Happy tears,” Diane confirmed.

They kissed again, the world condensing into just the two of them, the warmth of hands, murmured words and nothing else. Diane had no idea how long it was, but a pointed voice interrupted, startling both of them.

She turned towards the aisle, knowing her face was red as she met Claire’s amused eyes. “I was trying to offer you a hot towel,” she said, loud enough to be heard across several rows, “but perhaps a cold towel would be more appropriate?”

Laughter burst out, and Diane rolled her eyes at Claire. “Yes, thank you,” she said. “We’re fine.”

“I can see that,” Claire said pointedly. “These two lovebirds met on the plane, did you know?” she told everyone now listening, which was several rows' worth.

A man’s voice rang out, “We saw them on the bus!”, and laughter and applause rang out again.

Diane swatted at Claire. “You go on now, the rest of these people don’t need to know all that.”

Claire winked at her before moving on.

“I can’t believe it,” Diane muttered. She was relieved to see spots of colour on Nick’s cheeks; he wasn’t unaffected by it either.

“They’re alright,” Nick said.

Sighing, Diane privately agreed. She set her head on Nick’s shoulder, closing her eyes as she drank in the comfort of having him close. As she relaxed, Diane realised she was drifting off to sleep. Calm, for the first time on a Saturday flight; at peace with the knowledge that whatever happened tomorrow, she’d have Nick.

“Nick,” she murmured. “I need to tell you something.” She could hear that her voice was slurred with sleep already.

She felt the hum of reply rumble through his chest and wondered if he was falling asleep too. As it pulled her down, Diane made a last effort to speak clearly.

_I need you to know…_

“I love you, too,” she said, turning her head to kiss whatever she happened to hit. Somewhere near a collarbone, she thought sleepily. _I hope he heard me._

And sleep claimed her, and in the same moment, Nick.


	7. Day 7

Diane woke abruptly. Something had woken her, but what? She kept her eyes shut, not wanting to open Schrodinger’s box. If she didn’t look, she could be in either place.

“Diane,” Nick’s voice sounded.

 _Inconclusive._ He’d be there in Gander; he’d be there in Dallas.

“We’re going to land soon,” Nick said.

The words took a moment to sink in, but when they did, her eyes flew open. She blinked, pressing her hand against Nick’s cheek, smiling inches from hers. They were sitting up, more or less. In a plane.

Not in Gander.

“We’re here,” she whispered to him. “Not Gander.”

“Not Gander,” Nick agreed. “Good news?”

“Good news,” Diane said, and within a second, tears were falling again. “You must think I’m a mess,” she said, taking the tissues Nick offered. “All I’ve done is cry since…”

“Saturday?” Nick finished, and for some reason that was hilarious, and she was laughing and crying at the same time.

“Was that even real?” Diane asked him, wiping her eyes. “I mean…”

“I know,” Nick replied.

“So we’re almost in Dallas?” Diane asked.

“Landing in about half an hour, apparently,” Nick said.

Diane nodded. The unavoidable was upon them now.

“And then what?” she asked.

Nick looked at her. “I heard you,” he said, not answering her question directly. “Before we fell asleep.”

“When I told you I love you,” Diane said, the words still sitting a little strangely in her mouth. It had been a long time since she’d said those words, in that sense.

Nick smiled. “And I love you,” he said quietly. “So I suppose the question is, what do we want?”

Diane frowned. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “It’s complicated.”

“Or,” Nick said, brushing an errant tear from her cheek, “it’s so very simple.”

Diane took a deep breath and looked at him. _Simple._ “I want to be with you,” she said. That was it, condensed as simply as she could make it.

“Me too,” Nick said. He kissed her, his mouth gentle. “I’ll have to return to London, at least in the short term. I have a job, and a flat.”

“Of course,” Diane said, her heart falling. It sounded logical, but there was something about it that hinted at long months of phone calls and emails, an entire ocean between them. Loneliness again.

“You know, my company has an office in Dallas,” Nick said.

“Really?” Diane said. Her heart fluttered, and she told it to stop. He could be about to suggest anything…

“Yes,” Nick said. “And I’ve heard the weather in Dallas is a lot warmer than London.”

“And you’d consider…” Diane trailed off, not even wanting to voice the idea.

“I would,” Nick said, the smile spreading slowly over his face. “If that was something you’d want.”

“Of course,” Diane replied. She smiled again. “Good news.”

And as the wheels touched down in Dallas, their fingers intertwined, the sun rose above the horizon, dawning on the first day of the rest of their lives.

And it wasn’t a Saturday.


End file.
